


You Were Always There

by ArcadiaMahler



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coma, Depression, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other, Polyamory, Polyandry, Recovery, Sexual Assault, Suggestive Themes, Suicide Attempt, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 44,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcadiaMahler/pseuds/ArcadiaMahler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a near fatal car crash, Erwin was perhaps the only person left who believed Mike would awaken from his coma. And twenty years later, he did. How had time changed the relationship between the two? Mike would have to find out for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

 

            The neurosurgeon greeted the group with a frown. He gave them all the first sense of despair. The first sense that there was little hope. He greeted them one by one, naming himself, explaining his job.

            He said.

            "Mike Zacharias will survive his injuries."

            "He will live."

            _"However."_

            The neurosurgeon began to explain what brain damage was like. He began to explain car crash survivors. He began to explain what unconsciousness felt like. He began to talk of survivor stories he had witness. He began to talk about the survival rate.

            He began to talk about comas.

            By the time he had finished talking, everyone loss hope.

            Mike's friends lost hope.

            Mike's family lost hope.

            Everyone, but one person.

* * *

 

            There was no light. And somehow, albeit, no darkness.

            Beyond and below there was nothing. A void. Emptiness.

            It was sweet.

            It was bitter.

            It was comforting.

            It was agonizing.

            Floating.

            Fathomless, lightless oceans pooling under, above, around, everywhere.

            Nothing had a purpose. Perhaps decay and rot came here to die. Even the notion of such a thing seemed absurd, but the place brought such thoughts.

            A world of entropy.

            An eternity of entropy.

            Time had no meaning here. As if time had a meaning at all.

            Twenty years of time.

            An instant, in this void.

            This void swallowed time whole.

            Here, death kissed those who drifted. Here, life struggled to pull those from the clutches of such emptiness. Here, people floated forever, observing infinity.

            Here, in twenty years, in one instance; Mike awoke.

* * *

 

            Bleary and weak, Mike's eyes shot open in a padded blue room. Standing before him was three women in blue scrubs. Nurses. Young. Probably in college. Beside the nurses was a tall older man with a scrunched up face and snow white hair. Doctor. More experienced. Besides the doctor, was two men, one dressed in suit, the other in  a polo-shirt and jeans.

            "Good morning, Michael!" came the doctors booming voice. "Can you say hello?"

            Mike's tongue had lain dormant in his mouth for twenty years. He groaned, his cheeks strained with resting decayed muscles. He could do no more than an infant. His muscles had returned from an eternal slumber to the hellish expanse of blue. Dark cyan blue pads. Mike knew his name wasn't Michael. It was just a mistake people made. It was Mike. His birth certificate said Mike. His _nickname_ wasn't Mike. His _name_ was Mike.

            Mike groaned, and twisted his body to the side. It became apparent to him that he had no clothing. Just a sheet thrown over him. He struggled to lift his head. His neck creaked, his bones had set to rest for so long, they strained and popped. His hands trembled at the thought of moving. His body fell back on him, his body seemingly gave up on him.

            "Calm down now, Michael."

            _That's not my name._

            Mike groaned, mumbling gibberish. He had to tell this idiot his name was Mike, but his own goddamn body wouldn't let him. Just stand! Just get up! Mike was screaming in his own head, but his body wouldn't listen. He would bring his hand up off the floor, and it would fall back on the padded floor. He would lift his leg, and it would fall on the floor. Why? Why wouldn't it listen? Why won't you listen to me? Why won't you get up? Mike stared down at his body. Everything seemed a thousand miles away, and everyone seemed right up in his face. The older doctor pulled him up, and Mike trembled. The old man had so much strength, in comparison, he could crush Mike in his callous hands and be done with him. Instead he propped Mike up on his behind. His own bottom felt gone, empty, his pelvis bones trying to rip through his sorry excuse for skin.

            "Listen to me, don't struggle now." the doctor's voice boomed, Mike felt he had never heard something that loud in his life. "Do you see those two men over there?"

            Mike's eyes shot to the other side of the room. In the back, in the corner, of this windowless, horrifying room, there was two men. One in a suit, a grey suit, no tie, a white button up shirt. He had blond hair, neatly combed to one side, and an undercut. The second man had an undercut, raven black hair. He had a red-yellow polo shirt and faded jeans. Their eyes never left Mike. Mike struggled a gasp, it felt like dust left his lungs in his exhale. His lips were dry and cracked, as if he was some creepily preserved fossil of a man. He  groaned, mumbled, he couldn't speak words.

            "Yes or no Michael, just nod or shake your head. Do you know those two men?" the doctor asked, keeping Mike up so he could stare at the men. Mike gave a good long look at the two.

            Mike shook his head.

            The two men frowned.

* * *

 

            Someone had to tell Mike who the two men were.

            Someone had to tell Mike who Erwin Smith was.

            Someone had to tell Mike who Levi was.

            In all of the hospital's best intentions, Erwin and Levi were taken away. Mike would be too stressed out trying to remember if they stayed.

            Apparently, Mike had learned that the blue padded room was only temporary. He didn't have to stay. He nearly cried with relief. A padded blue room with no doors or windows in his mind, was like death all over again.

            When he showed signs of waking up earlier, the nurses moved him to the blue padded room. Apparently you can hurt yourself, and everyone around you when you wake up. Some people don't realise it. Mike showed signs of waking in his hospital room. He apparently brought enough strength in his arm to lift it, rip out the heart monitor, and knock over an empty glass on the stand next to him. They said it was an amazing feat. They said he was amazing. Mike never thought waking up would be so amazing to people. Mike never thought ripping out a heart monitor, and knocking over a glass full of nothing, was amazing. But when they returned him to his room, he couldn't move his fingers very well, he had become incredibly skinny, and he was starting to realise that his own existence in itself, was truly, amazing.

            The breeze that swept through the hospital was calm and cool. Mike felt his hair drifting in the wind for a few short seconds like a mother, coming to kiss his cheek. Mike could hear shuffling, the background noise of daily hospital life. Phones ringing, nurses chattering, carts of medicine or food wheeling around. Mike couldn't lift his head, his neck ached too much. However, he could turn his head a bit, and turned to the left, facing the window. He pressed his nose into the pillow. It smelt of fabric softener and lemon disinfectant. Everything smelt of lemon disinfectant. The whole room seemed to be scrubbed with it. So he kept his face pressed to the pillow. The fabric softener didn't irritate his nose. Not that much anyway.

            Outside the room window was a large tree. It was a maple tree. Leaves glittered and tossed in the wind, red, orange, yellow and gold. Was it Autumn? Mike decided that was good guess. A knock came to the door, and a young woman let herself in. She wore white scrubs, and her dark brunette hair was wrapped in a bun and tucked into her white hat. She was pretty. She had a sweet smile, a very young smile.

            "Hello Mike."

            Thank god she didn't say Michael, Mike thought. Across the room was a whiteboard pinned to the wall. She wrote her name in purple ink, and drew a smiley face. She said she would be there if he needed help. She said it was okay not to speak, she said it was okay to be weak. She allowed him that time to be helpless, and Mike appreciated it. Mike felt flustered. Overwhelmed. Every movement was agony. Sleep was so close, gently brushing his eyelids. Mike feared to sleep. He wasn't sure what would happen if he fell asleep. He wasn't sure what would happen if he stayed awake. The young nurse sat at the corner of the bed, and began to pet his foot. Mike twitched his toes. It ached, but they moved. It felt nice to be pet. She was nice.

            "It's so strange, to see you moving... When I was a kid, my mother worked here. She used to show me this room you were in..." she mumbled softly, her eyes wet and red. She looked a little sad, but she snuffled, and smiled again. Mike growled, and stiffened up. He shied from her touch. What did that mean? As a kid? This woman wasn't very old but... what did that mean? Mike wanted to ask, he was desperate to ask, but all that came out was grunts and mumbles. She decided to stop petting, but stayed on the bed.

            "It's good to see you up though. How are you feeling?" the nurse rose from her seat, looking over Mike. Silence. She expected it, but she was young, and she became clumsy learning she was talking to a brick wall. She walked to a cart she brought to the door, and pulled a laminated sheet off. It had the alphabet, and numbers one through nine. She stepped over, sitting down on a chair by Mike.

            "Good. You're nice and calm. Last night you were a little... erratic. It's okay. You don't have to worry about it, you're fine. Does your arm hurt in any way?" Now that she mentioned it, Mike did feel his arm hurt a bit. He nodded.

            "Oh good. I mean, well-" She stuttered, cutting herself off. "Not good, but I'm glad you understand. You ripped out a needle for the I.V. so your arm got a little damaged. We patched you up and called your friends to see you. Someone talked to you about Erwin and Levi?"

            Mike nodded.

            "Good. They'd love to visit you. Do you remember them?"

            Mike shook his head.

            "Oh... don't worry, it's okay." the nurse patted his arm gently, and set the laminated sheet of the alphabet on his chest. Mike stared at it. He felt the bed moving, behind his back, the sound of gears whirring. The nurse was holding a remote, adjusting the bed so Mike could sit upright. He sighed, feeling lost for a moment. He had never seen a bed move. The woman was adjusting his bed so he didn't have to sit up. Everything needed to be adjusted. His life needed to be adjusted. Not a moment occurred where Mike decided to wonder what was going on, but now it came to him. Was I paralyzed? He thought. He wiggled his toes. No. Mike could feel his body. He could feel his face, his tongue, his cheek muscles. It just _hurt_ to move. Why?

            "Can you read the card in front of you?" the nurse asked once the bed stopped moving Mike to a upright position. Mike looked at the alphabet card.

            "Mhn." He mumbled, and nodded his head.

            "You don't have to speak, but if you can try, go right ahead." the nurse hummed. She seemed cheerful, excited almost. Which made Mike only more concerned.

            "Can you spell your name?" she asked. "Just point out the letters." Mike blinked. His left hand was bandaged, there was bruises on his arm. Mike wanted to think about what happened. He wanted to think about his life. He wanted to think without it hurting. His mind just wouldn't let him think. Mike had spent so much time dreaming. Mike took the energy he had left in his body, and lifted his wrist.

            He tapped the "M".

            "Good. Your whole name?" the woman asked, she kept herself reserved, never pushing Mike. Mike nodded, and poked the letters. Mike. Zacharias.

            "Oh good, you can do your last name too!" she smiled, and looked to him. "Mike. How old are you?"

            "Two."

            "One."

            "Twenty one... Okay." she hummed, looking over the card. "Mike... what year is it?"

            "One."

            "Nine."

            "Eight."

            "Nine."

            Mike could see her frowning out of the corner of his eyes. He knew he had given the wrong information. As soon as he pointed at one, he was wrong. He looked down at the card.

            "1989... okay... um... How much is the price of a gallon of regular gasoline?" she asked.

            This was too specific.

            This wasn't a sensible question.

            What year was it? What was the real price of gas? Why was she asking?

            "One."

            "One."

            "Zero."

            "A dollar ten cents?" she asked.

            Mike nodded.

            "Okay..." she pursed her lips together, and looked down at the card. "Mike... what kind of car do you own?"

           Car?

           A car?

           Mike remembered a car. He remembered something like a car. A red car.

           No.

           The car wasn't red.

           Fire was red. Blood was red.

            Fire. Footsteps. Screaming. Shadows. Stumbling around, it was like dancing. Blood. Lots of blood. It smells so bitter. It's sticky, it's gross, it's just-

            "Mike, please calm down, you're heart is going crazy!" the woman brought the card away and reached to the heart monitor. Mike glanced over. 170 over 120. Hypertension. Blood pressure raising. Not good. Stress. Why did he know that? Mike didn't remember being a doctor or anything like that. He wasn't special. He was only twenty one. Who taught him about blood pressure? He breathed. It felt like his life was leaving him, each breath agonized him. Blood was covering his nose. It smelt so bitter. That blond man, pumping his chest, blood gushing out of broken flesh. Screaming. Mike. Mike. Get up. Mike. Please.

            And then he remembered.

* * *

 

            "All right, I'm glad to hear you reacted well Michael." that old man from the padded room was back. A neurosurgeon. He was also a speech therapist as well as practically anything for the brain, the man had innate knowledge for it. He looked to Mike for a response to his words.

            Mike said nothing.

            The neurosurgeon sighed. He sat down in the chair next to the bed, hands folded. A rush of air as he sat on the cushion chair.

            "All right Michael. I'll give it to you straight. Today is the seventeenth of September. The year is 2010. Twenty years ago, on January second, you were involved in a automobile accident. You were brought here to this hospital, I performed the surgery on your head. Do you remember anything about what I'm telling you?"

            Mike said nothing. He did remember, something like a tall blond man leaning over him. Something like screaming and fire. It wasn't much though. It was just a man. A blond man. Erwin. The name rolled around in Mike's head. Erwin. It was such a nice name. It was right, it felt right to say that name. Erwin. Smith.

            "Don't worry if you can't remember." the doctor patted his arm. He had callous hands, warm hands. "Now if you never remember, it's okay. You received heavy damage to your body and your head. By the time you ended up in this hospital, you had already slipped into your coma. I can never say for sure that the memories will come back. The brain is strange that way. I'm just happy to see you alive. Hell, after ten years, I never thought that you'd come back. Twenty years is remarkable. After a few months, the survival rate drops to almost nothing. You are amazing."

            Mike knows the man is trying to drill it in his head. It's 2010, it's not 1989 or 1990 or whatever the fucking year was. It never hits home. It makes Mike irritated. The only thing left in his mind is a blond man covered in blood, and decorated in January snow. Erwin. Erwin Smith.

            "Don't worry about your arm by the way, you should be fine." the doctor explains. "You're lucky there wasn't anything dangerous or sharp near by you when you awoke, you might have severely hurt yourself. The bruising may go away soon. Your body will be taking a very long time to heal. You've got physical therapy sessions, early morning, and afternoon. Speech therapy just before lunch. If we can get you out of here, we'll do our best. We're hoping to get you walking soon enough. Unfortunately, I restricted your visiting hours. One hour a day, only one visitor. Maybe two hours once your speech therapy goes good." the doctor rose from his chair. Mike frowned.

            This is certainly disappointing. Mike tries to move his hand. It moves, but it takes a few seconds for his brainwaves to go down to his hand, and finally tell it to move. And when it does, he only lifts his hand for a moment, the muscles scream and collapse under his skin, and his hand drops back down on the bed. It feels like moving someone else's hand. Mike felt like his body no longer trusted him after disusing it for so long.

            "Since you're calm, I won't force the nurse to watch you all day. Next to your pillow is a remote, there's a big red button on the bottom. If you need something, please press it." the doctor swung the door open, and kept his hand firmly on the door. "Oh, now, I have a feeling I know the answer, but would you like to spend some time with your speech therapist, or would you like to see your visitor?"

            Mike blinked. There was a visitor? Who? Mike lifted his hand, mumbling. He made a sort of _vuh_ noise.

            "Visitor?" the doctor asked.

            Mike nodded.

            "I had a feeling." the doctor flashed a smile of white teeth. "I'll send them up in a minute, okay?"

            Mike nodded, and dropped his head back into his pillow. A sigh left his lips. He mumbled a few times. Trying to speak. Words on his lips, buzzing, senselessness. He felt like a child trying to learn French. Mumbling nonsense, babbling and grumbling. Mike felt drool on his lips. He felt pathetic. He knew he must've looked disgusting. He decided to test his ability to speak.

            "Mhn..." He huffed. "Mhy... My... Name... Is..." Mike felt weak, breath played on his words. He could barely understand himself. His mind was delayed. "My name is..." something else. His name was Mike wasn't it? Of course. Just... how? Why? What was going on? Mike knew he was Mike, he just didn't feel like Mike. His mind certainly was Mike, but his body... This body was not his. He did not leave this body behind when he fell asleep. He left behind a twenty-one year old.

            "My name... is... Mike?" Mike mumbled, and his voice strained like it was a question of some sort. Mike wondered for a moment if his own body posed the question. _Are you Mike? Why did you leave me? I can't move without you. Why did you leave me resting here? Why did you leave me so weak and helpless? What was I supposed to do? Where would I hide if you weren't here? How would I walk if you weren't here?_  His body bantering his mind with questions. Mike felt ashamed, like he couldn't allow himself to answer. It was too painful.

            Some time later, the sound of footfall came to the door. It was two people, small feet, big feet. A woman and a man. The nurse from earlier popped in, a smile on her face. And behind her stepped in a man. A tall man, strong build, blond hair brushed and combed out beautifully. He looked to Mike, he had big blue eyes, like the afternoon sky. For a few seconds, the blond man looked concerned, afraid. His hands were shaking, he tried to make himself small, as if not to scare Mike. Mike followed him with his eyes, and slowly lifted his head.

            "Erwin." he breathed, his voice shuddered.

            The nurse looked surprised, she stared at Mike. The man standing behind her, his face twitched, he gave a small half-smile. Mike felt like he knew he'd do that. But his eyes, his bright sky blue eyes lit up with joy. Erwin. Erwin Smith. Mike looked to the man, and smiled slightly in return.

            "You can speak?" the woman sounded shocked.

            "No..." Mike muttered. "Little..."

            "D-don't worry about it! It's just. I can't believe it, that's great!" she looked so proud, like Mike was her son or something. "I'll go tell the speech therapist! He was worried you might have Aphasia." she made her leave, and left Mike with Erwin, all in their lonesome.

            Mike grunted. He felt pathetic. He looked pathetic. He was pathetic. Yet Erwin looked over him longingly, as if he was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. Erwin sat down next to the bed, reaching out and brushing Mike's cheek, and rested his hand on his chest. His hand was warm.

            "Mike... how are you?" Erwin asked. Mike blinked. Erwin's eyes were getting red, bright with water. Mike shied away, but his hand came to his hair to brush it behind his ear, and he felt a little more relaxed. Erwin leaned in, looking over Mike as if he was some sort of illusion.

            "Do you.. know me?" Erwin was hesitant. Strange. Mike didn't remember much, but hesitation wasn't in Erwin's character. Mike looked over Erwin. He remembered the blond man, his hands covering his broken flesh, his bloodied hands, the snow drifting over the ground. Something serene. Erwin. Erwin was the man speaking to him. That night, and now.

            "You... Erwin..." Mike muttered.

            "Yes. Do you need anything? Water? Blankets?" Erwin asked. Mike blinked. Twenty years of sleep and the only concern in Erwin's head was if he was comfortable. Mike felt a smile on his face, and he shook his head. It was nice not to hear 'do you remember this? do you remember that?' for a change. Erwin settled back a bit, and continued to pet his hair. It was calm. The world was calm. The world could ignore this moment. Continue on elsewhere. Time was moving again. Mike blinked a few more times. As if he needed a clearer image. Unsure if the world was still a real place. Eternity had vanished from his grasp. Nothing left but to face reality. For now, he could stay with Erwin.

            There was a long moment where Erwin talked to him about his childhood. Mike remembered that. He remembered Erwin. Erwin Smith, the kid who lived down the street from him when he was five. They played around, the street they lived on was next to a park surrounded by trees. They built forts, they talked of how the world was strange place. They wrestled, only playing. Practiced fighting. Mike fast-forward to high school. The two of them had grown up long before they were supposed to. Mike had suffered from growing pains when he was a child, as if his body was telling him he hated Mike, and wanted him to suffer. He was lanky, tall, didn't speak much. Erwin grew the same, matured at a young age, was always greeted with the same stupid quote. _I thought you were older than that. You're so tall and mature._ The two had hated that quote in their pre-teen years, and by high school, they were irritated with being treated like children. They often spoke together, and if Mike remembered properly, Erwin was like a philosopher. He spoke of the world as a whole, and hated worldly things. TV shows didn't interest them. They sought reasons for existing. Reasons for dying. By graduation night Erwin and Mike didn't celebrate, they didn't get fucked up drunk, they didn't ever do much drugs. The night of high school graduation they walked down to the strip mall and signed up for the military. Mike didn't remember learning Arabic. He didn't remember much of Kuwait. He did remember training. He remembering every night regretting his decision to join the army. He remembered meeting his friends. He remembered Erwin speaking much of death, of dying for a cause, of dying with a purpose.

            He remembered Erwin saying, dying there wasn't for a purpose. It was just for slaughter.

            When they got up to the accident, Erwin seemed to fade from the topic, he didn't want to force anything to Mike's head. He seemed sullen about it, and reached out to Mike, and told him he was sorry. He said that he didn't expect Mike to forgive him. And Mike remembered something else.

            "You..." Mike mumbled. "You're... my boyfriend...?" Mike felt hesitant saying such a word. Erwin just gave him another smile. But this didn't feel right. Erwin's eyes, bright blue, they looked sad. They looked detached. His eyebrows rested low on his eyes.

            "Yes... we were together for three years." Erwin explained. "We kept it secret, so the military didn't kick us out. Remember?"

            "Yes." Mike muttered. "I remember..."

            "Good." Erwin smiled and brushed Mike's hair back. The two just had a moment, they both went quiet. This time didn't feel so awkward, as if they had been quiet before, just allowing time between each other to think, to breathe, to live. Erwin stroked his cheek. Mike felt his hands, warm and callous. And something cold hit his chin. Mike blinked. Something cold. Metal. It felt out of place. Erwin continued to pet him, something cold scratching his chin ever so often. The nurse came, and told Erwin his hour was up. The whole hour sucked away by trying to remember who Mike was. Mike blinked, feeling Erwin's warm hand against his cheek. Erwin nodded, and leaned in, cupping Mike's cheek, and kissed him softly. Mike looked down, and the image clicked. He froze up.

            Something cold scratched his face again as Erwin cupped his cheek, and he kissed him a few more times, gentle sweet kisses, lips pressed to his cheek and down his face. Erwin stepped away, smiling down at Mike. Erwin was so warm, that cold metallic feeling started to scare Mike, and he stared into space, looking to Erwin in shock, in confusion. A million questions was stuck in his throat. Choking him. He couldn't breathe. He was going to die. These questions wouldn't cease, but Mike couldn't speak them. His face flushed pale. Erwin walked to the door, turning to give Mike a good long look. The nurse flashed a smile.

            "Say goodbye, Mister Zacharias." the nurse said sweetly.

            Mike said nothing. Erwin didn't mind. He gave a small smile, and waved. His left hand came up to the air, and Mike froze. Something there in that image shattered his heart. Mike felt his body slipping back into the bed. He felt his whole body become exhausted. He felt his heart had stopped beating. He felt the whole world fall out from under him. The whole time Erwin was there, he didn't want to believe it, and in that image, he knew it was the truth. Erwin waved at him. He waved with his left hand. And wrapped on the ring finger of his left hand, a small cold metallic object.

            A wedding ring.

            Mike waited for the nurse to leave him alone. The room emptied. It became silent. For a moment he felt the wind greet him, and soon it died down to nothing. He stared up at the ceiling, the image carving its way into his mind. He thought of a night covered in blood and snow, and something like silence. Twenty years of something like silence. It donned on him. Twenty years. Erwin had been waiting twenty years. Or perhaps not. Erwin had a wedding ring. Erwin was his boyfriend. Erwin had been with him since high school. God, Mike even remembered how hard it was to not make it obvious. And Erwin's smile, after twenty years had not changed. Nothing about Erwin had been flawed in that time between them. Mike peered back and forth, even though it hurt his neck. He felt insecure, like a little girl. He looked around the room, checking the corners. No one was around. He breathed a sigh of relief.

            And he began to cry.

* * *

 

            "He's doing well, but he's still pretty tired. He's resting now so no visitors, okay?" the younger doctor tapped his pen against the clipboard, standing in the waiting room.

            "Why the fuck not? Can't we just look at him? What harm could we possibly do?" the receiver of such information clearly wasn't having it. The man next to him reached over, gently patting his arm.

            "Levi, please. Mike is tired he needs to sleep." Erwin huffed, relaxing the man. "We understand, but could we get any information on how he's been? Anything in detail? We just want to know how the treatment is going."

            The young doctor bit his bottom lip, and shrugged his shoulders. He gave a dejected sigh, and sat down on the chair across from Erwin.

            "Look. I won't beat around the bush. Now, Mike is doing great, he's starting to walk, he's been talking well, he's eating on his own. He can walk a short distance. He's been bathing on his own. Using the bathroom on his own. He came a long way. Mike has been a little detached lately, and we think he's just out of touch-"

            "You fucking think? He's been here for twenty goddamn years!"

            "Levi, please." Erwin hissed.

            "Well, it's just... He 's very uncomfortable. He's doing everything necessary to function on his own. However, he has no will to do much more than what we tell him. He refuses to watch TV, or listen to the radio, or talk to people... We don't know what he wants. He's scared, and we're worried that if he gets too distant, he might just fall into depression."

            "Can't we talk to him? I know he must be tired, but it's been a month already. Is he really that tired every single day?" Erwin inquired. The doctor looked down, and back up at Erwin.

            "I'll give it to you straight." the doctor sighed. "Mike said he doesn't want to see anyone. For the sake of his therapy we decided to listen to his requests. He said he wanted time to think. That was his words. We don't know when he'll be comfortable with people."

            "Please, can't you break your promise? I want to talk to him." Erwin pleaded.

            "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you in the first place. You seem to be good friends of Mike. A lot of people have been pestering Mike lately. Even the stupid news station came down here last week to try and interview him about his twenty year coma. I don't think he wants to be around anyone right now."

            The doctor began to stand, and Erwin reached out and snatched his arm, pulling him forward.

            "I know you can't do much, but please... can you just ask Mike first?" Erwin pleaded.

            "I..." the man hesitated, biting his lower lip. "I'll talk to his nurse about it."

            Erwin sighed with relief.

            "Thank you." Erwin huffed. "Oh, and could you send these up to him?"

            Erwin turned to face Levi. In the chair next to him was a small blue vase filled with lavender and lemon blossoms. He held the vase out to the doctor. He gave a short nod, and held the vase close.

            "All right. I'll ask the nurse if it's okay." the doctor dipped his head as some crude way to excuse himself, and walked out of the room, vase in hand. Levi sighed, leaning back in his chair, and staring around the waiting room.

            "You're such a fucking push over. You should be demanding to speak to him, this isn't fair to us. We're his friends. Mike should see us." Levi hissed.

            "I don't know Levi..." Erwin mumbled. "I think something is bothering him."

            "You think? Do any of you realise how long twenty fucking years is?"

            "Levi... it's not that. I think he's come to terms with that. I think he just needs time to bring himself together. I can't imagine this is easy." Erwin sighed. "He must have a lot of things going on in his mind."

            "Like what?" Levi retorted.

            Erwin was silent. He swept his fingers through his hair, his wedding ring getting trapped on his blond locks for a second, before slipping free. Erwin gave a small breath of a sigh, and shrugged.

            "I just don't know..."

* * *

 

            A tap on the door. Mike had started to greet these visits with a sigh. It was either, Mike time for this therapy, or Mike time for that therapy. He had been doing well on his own, he wanted to rest, and times like this he usually pretended to be asleep. They would wake him calmly, and tell him to wake up, even though he was tired he had work to do. He would grunt or say something nice. Anything to get them away. He did what was asked. Identify objects, exercise his legs. He was still pathetically weak, and trembled at the thought of physical therapy. Still, he'd pick it any day over the psyche-examiner. Every visit was always "Mike, did you know _____?" and "Mike, do you know what _____ is?" Like Mike was supposed to figure out on his own twenty years of missed out information. Mike was still under the assumption that Alice Cooper and Aerosmith were top chart artists, and Michael Jackson wasn't dead. He stared up at the ceiling, the TV in the corner was still shut off. The door to the room opened, and he shut his eyes, relaxing his arms.

            "You don't fool me, Mister Mike." Mike opened his eyes. It was the young nurse. She had stuck around for a little while, deciding she should be in charge of taking care of Mike. She was nice, nice as she had been on day one. Not a fake rehearsed nice that was forced on him alongside the treatment. She was honest, and she was the only person Mike had been talking to in the last month. Other than the people he was forced to talk to, Mike never said a word.

            "You've been doing great. The whole hospital has been buzzing about you." the nurse spoke, pulling the window open. The cool Autumn breezes were getting stronger and colder. Mike sighed, and shifted in his bed, laying on the pillow. The nurse came to sit at the edge of the bed as always. Mike said nothing. Cue for the nurse to continue speaking.

            Today's topic was a little different, it seemed the nurse was comfortable enough to start talking about herself instead of the weather or anything about therapy or eating.

            "You know... I used to wander around this hospital as a kid. My mom was a night shift nurse, and she didn't want to leave me at home by myself, so she took me here. I hated that. This place scared me. You scared me the most." she said softly, her hands folded in her lap.

            "I'm sorry." Mike replied flatly. He didn't mean it, because he didn't care very much.

            "Well, my mom and a few other nurses were in charge of exercising you. Moving your body around and keeping the blood flowing. As well as feeding and keeping you free of bed sores. We were afraid of you getting muscular atrophy... And as time kept going, we didn't even know how you were still functioning. You breathed on your own, but nothing would get you to wake up... My mom would come in and read to you, and sometimes I came and listened. I wasn't afraid of you anymore. I think this hospital was like a home to me. That's why I wanted to stay here. Right after high school I decided to become a nurse."

            "How old are you?" Mike mumbled his question, though his words formed much better in his mouth than they did a month ago.

            "I'm eighteen. I know I'm too young to become a nurse-"

            "No, never let people tell you you're too young." Mike hissed. Mike had always heard he was too young, of course after he was assumed to be older than he looked. His teenage years had become hellish when people mistook him for an adult. Some people would think it was great, being let into bars and given cigarettes, but it just became annoying that Mike could never avoid the threat of being underage. Not to mention his maturity made people feel he was just a 'downer' in his high school life. The girl just smiled bravely.

            "I never let people deter me from this job. I think I liked being able to take over for my mom. She was here all the time. She worked this floor." the nurse explained, twisting her fingers together. "She went back to school a few years ago, she wanted to become a brain surgeon. Even in high school I always came here. I know so many people here... You... I always felt like you were a dad to me. I mean, nothing weird or anything, but my mom was always here with you... Reading to you, speaking to you. Hoping you'd wake up. She was so shocked when I told her you woke up... I always thought my mom had a crush on you or something. That's why she took care of you. I was just being a silly child though. My mom was just passionate about her work."

            Mike stared distantly at the nurse, his lips pursed together tightly. He felt his stomach sinking in his body, twisting into knots. It was strange to look at this child, thinking something of having a daughter. He never really thought about having a daughter or a son. Mike gave a soft sigh. The concept of being asleep had been bashed into his head long enough, even the people that were close to him were starting to break down. It couldn't be avoided any longer.

            "To be honest... she wasn't as passionate as Mister Smith." the nurse continued, a smile playing on her face. "He was gone the first few years you were here, but he came back... He was shocked to see you still asleep. At least at first... Then he came as often as he could. For three years... then he started coming here less and less. Then he came every Saturday. He was the only person still visiting you."

            "What do you mean he was gone for the first few years?" Mike asked.

            "Well... My mom told me about you, how you'd been in this hospital since before I was born..." the nurse looked up at the ceiling for a bit and sighed. "Mister Smith and your friends, they were in the military. You had to get discharged because you were in a coma of course... and when Mister Smith went back to Kuwait, he lost his arm in Desert Storm."

            "Lost his arm? Desert Storm? What are you talking about?"

            The nurse pressed her lips together thinly, and looked down at her shoes.

            "Mister Mike... you we're on your way to Iraq, you came back here for garrison time, and that's when the car accident happened... Erwin couldn't stay here, and he was going to discharge from the military to stay, but he said he needed to "finish what he started". So he went out to complete his two years, and lost his arm during an attack. He did some rehab in a different hospital, and he came back to this town. You must not have noticed. He wears a prosthetic arm, it's got a bionic hand. I always thought it was really cool looking. He doesn't like to use it, so he always uses his left arm to do everything."

            Mike blinked a few times to put everything together. Kuwait? Desert Storm? These words, they weren't unfamiliar. But they weren't something he knew well. He couldn't think straight. Mike had been trying his best to not think about Erwin. He tried his damndest not to think about Erwin, not to see Erwin, not to remember Erwin. And now the only person he had left to talk to, was talking about Erwin.

            "Mister Smith must've had a lot of faith that you'd wake up... Every Saturday he'd come here and read, and talk to you about what was happening, and every Saturday he'd bring you flowers- oh!" the nurse stood up quickly, brushing her shirt off and walked over to the cart by the door. She pulled a blue vase of flowers. Lavender and lemon blossoms. Mike stared at her as she set the flowers down, taking away the wilted old ones that had sat at the desk near Mike's bed.

            "He... he brought those for me? Erwin?" Mike asked, blinking a few times.

            "Yes, he came by today. A doctor friend of mind said he really wants to see you..." the nurse pursed her lips, and gave a small smile. "He misses you. You've been awake, and he's been waiting for you... I know you've been tired, but do you think you can spare your visiting hours to see him? Just a little bit? It breaks my heart to see him come every day only to turn him away."

            "He... he came every day?" Mike mumbled.

            "Ever since you woke up. I know you've been telling me you've been tired... but could you try to be less tired? Just for Erwin? I know he needs to see you..." the nurse leaned back, resting the flowers by Mike. Lavender... Erwin knew that was easy on his nose, the lemon blossoms too. Mike looked at the flowers, blinking slightly.

            "He visited... every Saturday?" he mumbled.

            "Yes. My mother worked at the check-in desk. I could even show you. He checked in every Saturday for two or three-ish hours, brought flowers, fixed your bed, read you the news. When your hair got long he cut it, and he shaved you too. He brought you over here the day the car accident happened." she explained. "He... he was waiting for you. I've never seen someone that devoted. I always used to hope I had someone like that when I got married... if I did."

            Mike said nothing. He sat there. Erwin had been waiting? Well, Mike thought, I guess I took too long. Because Erwin is hitched even though he's my boyfriend. Yet when had the marriage happened? Who was his wife? And he continued to visit after he moved on? That felt like an insult more than anything. Rubbing salt in Mike's wounds. Erwin may as well have came in and told him "I found someone I love more than you and I moved on." But if he came every day, brought flowers every Saturday... did he really move on?... Did Erwin really want to see him? Mike glanced to his side, the nurse was pouring some tap water into the vase. Lavender. Erwin was probably the only soul in the world that knew Mike liked that flower. It was the only one that was easy on his nose. Erwin promised to be with him forever. Perhaps that's just what boyfriends say. Cheesy lines. Cheesy bullshit lying lines. Mike hissed out a breath, and inhaled the scent of lavender. Dammit. Those flowers were going to leave Erwin in his mind forever. He looked to the nurse, and froze. There were tears in her eyes, and she placed the glass of tap water down, looking to the flowers.

            "You're really lucky..." she mumbled, sniffling, a tear dripping down her cheek. "I always thought... that if you woke up, it was because Mister Smith kept coming to visit you... Every time he showed up, he always said he was sorry, and that he loved you..." she snuffled again, trying to hold in her pathetic sobs. It was hard. Mike felt his heart ache. He knew this girl was kind as she was honest. Her emotions were the only real ones he had seen in a while. He felt his eyes watering, and turned his head to the side sharply.

            "He still blames himself you know..." the poor girls voice was ruined, and Mike realised, if this girl was eighteen, she was born and lived up to this point while he sat back in a coma. This girl was a whole product of time he had missed. Time he had rotted away. And yet she cared for that time, that burden still held to her chest. That girl could hold eighteen years of time at the most. Erwin was holding all of it. The girl looked over Mike, and wiped her tears on her shirt.

            "I'm sorry... I just felt like... if you ever woke up, it was because Mister Smith was here for you... I felt like you would wake up for him... He really does want to see you... why don't you want to see him?"

            Mike felt tears going down his face, his hands curling into fists. Why did Erwin do this to him? Why did he move on without him? Mike wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. But everything he wanted to scream and cry about had already happened. He had spent all this time asleep. He had no strength to fight his fears. All the things he hated. All the things that hurt his very existence. In Mike's mind, he was still twenty one, the eighties had just ended, yesterday he had gotten shitfaced drunk at a 1990's new year party, and Erwin Smith was still his boyfriend. In his mind, he loved Erwin. And in his mind, he feared Erwin no longer felt the same.

            "Can you... call him...? I want to talk to him tomorrow..." Mike hesitated to speak. Even if he was weak, in his mind he just didn't want to show it. "I can't see him like this... Not today..." Mike felt tears running down his face, it was hot and painful. The last time he had cried was when he saw Erwin leaving his room, waving his wedding ring around. That time felt cold and painful. This time it felt hot. It stung his eyes, it clogged his nose, it made it hard to breathe, hard to feel. The nurse leaned over, picked him up, he was still weak and skinny, and wrapped her arms around him, sitting on the bed next to him.

            "It's okay... It's going to be okay..." she mumbled. "I'll call him, I promise... You really should see him... He really wants to see you..."

            Mike felt warm for the first time since he woke up. He felt like he was at home. This girl he had never met before, this girl who he had know her whole life. This girl he had met, again, for the first time. He buried his face against the stranger-slash-friend's shoulder, and for the first time in his half-lived life, Mike had a good hard cry. A painful cry. One that left his face red and irritated and made it hard for him to breath. Even his sensitive nose could no longer smell the lavender at his bedside from the harshness of his crying. The nurse let him cry on her shirt, petting his hair. He remembered that feeling. She would pet his foot, and pet his hair back. Did she do it when he was asleep too? Mike couldn't bring himself to ask, he could only bring himself to cry. Maybe that was best for now.

            When he stopped, the nurse tucked him under the bed sheets. It was still hard to do small things, and crying had never been so exhausting to Mike. He fell back into his bed, wishing he could crawl into a hole and die there. The nurse pet his hair until he closed his eyes, and Mike felt her slowly get up from the bed and walk to the door. He could hear the creaking hinges swing open and Mike turned his head.

            "What's your name?"

            The nurse paused, she must've thought he was asleep since she seemed shocked for a moment. When she turned to Mike, she had a smile on her reddened face and gave a nod of her head.

            "Rene." she replied calmly.

            "And... what's your moms name?" Mike inquired. "Just... I want to thank her someday."

            "My mom? Nanaba." Rene replied, a soft smile on her face. "She's around the same age as you I think..."

            "Nanaba..." Mike muttered the name a few times. It was a beautiful name. "Tell Nanaba I said thank you... for everything. Please."

            Rene smiled, and nodded her head firmly. "Of course, Mister Mike." she gave another kind smile, one Mike knew was real, and shut the door, leaving him to his thoughts.

* * *

 

            Tomorrow came faster that Mike wanted it to. He wasn't ready to see Erwin, he wasn't ready to talk to Erwin. He just knew he had to. Mike carefully pulled himself from his bed. Rene called Erwin to come in and meet Mike. To be honest, Mike really was tired, and he wasn't sure he could face Erwin again. Slow and steady, Mike rose from his bed, and slowly made his way to the door, pushing it open. He sighed softly, and pushed onward. The world outside his bedroom was busy and noisy. Time kept moving, but it always seemed to stop for him. The room around him silenced. Some of the nurses stared and started to murmur. Some of the other patients took double glances at him. Some visitors looked in confusion. Mumbling, endlessly. _He's the guy that was in a coma for twenty years!_

_No way, that can't be true, they made that up._

_It's true, just ask the doctors around here._

_I heard they made bets on when he'd die._

_Nobody thought he would wake up. Now look at him, I guess you can never know for sure._

_Could you imagine? Twenty years. If it wasn't for all the technology, he'd probably have died._

_Are you kidding, after twenty years? More like a miracle. The Lord in heaven must've been merciful to him._

            Mike sneered.

            "Merciful.. I think God just hates me and likes to watch me suffer." he mumbled under his breath, leaning forward. Damn, did it hurt to walk. His muscles screamed and strained, his legs trembled and ached under his weight. It hurt more to pause than anything else. Continuing to move made the pain distribute. Once he stood in place his muscles began to breathe, and it felt like they would inflame. It tortured him, but it allowed him to think. Mike leaned on the wall, looking around. People were busy whispering about him and talking about him. He swore someone snapped a picture, but he didn't know where. He just headed to the nurses' station. Rene must've been there. She had to be there. He couldn't do this alone. His stomach hurt at the thought. It twisted into knots at the thought. Rene had to be here. He'd make a fool of himself in front of Erwin. He needed someone to support him. Someone to keep his head level.

            "Mister Mike? What are you doing out of your room. Erwin won't be here for a few minutes." Rene's voice appeared to him, but he already felt dizzy. He couldn't see straight, his vision distorted, the corners of his eyes blackening. He fell to his knees, his whole stomach twisted into a knot inside of him. His body trembled, and he clutched his stomach for dear life, vomiting on the tile floor. Hospital food. God, it stung his nose and burned his throat. Everything felt like he was going to die for a second, he puked hard enough to cry.

            "Mister Mike!" Rene's hand was on his shoulder, pulling him upright so he didn't land in his own vomit. God, Mike thought, when did I become so pathetic? Mike was trembling, his eyesight twisting and blurring. He shut his eyes tight, spitting the bile still in his mouth.

            "Doctor!" Rene called. Mike heard footsteps coming, he felt his stomach tightening. He couldn't handle the fear in his body. He stuttered to speak something.

            "I need to see him.. I... I want to walk to him..." Mike mumbled.

            "You will, Mister Mike, but you should stay in your room! You shouldn't exert yourself like this." Rene pulled Mike back against the wall, keeping him away from the pile of vomit. Mike could hear people cleaning, already trying to clean the mess he made. He made a choked sob of a noise. God, how pathetic. He couldn't even clean up his own mess. He needed people to treat him like a five year old. He wanted to cry, but that only made him feel more like a damn child. Rene brushed his hair back, and he started to see one of the doctors had come to his aid, some nurses cleaning the mess he made. A crowd of people was staring at him. What a spectacle, the amazing man who survived twenty years on the boundary of life and death, vomiting all over himself and wanting to cry like a baby. Mike was really starting to hate himself.

            Rene cleaned Mike up, helped him rinse out his mouth, and threw a blanket over him just for comfort sake. Mike wrapped it over his shoulders. He wanted to cover his face, and hide in a pit under the floor. His stomach settled, his muscles ached. He only felt more tired. Mike looked down at his hands, his skin was frail, greyish, disused. His body was useless. He was useless. How could he face Erwin this way?

            "Erwin will be in soon Mike, I promise." Rene assured.

            "No..." Mike mumbled, he brought the blanket over himself. "I... I can't see him."

            "Mike you have to. You promised." Rene sat down by him on the bed, reaching out and adjusting the blanket. "Erwin won't care, he just wants to see you're doing well. Trust me, you look much better than you did a month ago when you woke up. He'll be so happy. He'll get to see all the progress you've done."

            Mike began to mull over the idea of Erwin being happy. He just scoffed at the thought, and went silent for a few moments. He sighed softly, looking to Rene. "Can I stand up when I see him?" Mike huffed.

            "Of course, but you should wait a little bit. You don't want to strain yourself again." Rene replied. She was standing by the side of the bed, blocking Mike from being able to move out very quickly. She was kind and honest, and strange combination, but she was still a nurse, and she wasn't risking Mike to hurt himself again. "They should be inside in just a few minutes. I got his phone number so he texted me."

            "He what?"

            "Text... it's a... um.." Rene pursed her lips a bit, looking down. "Huh. It's like a message sending thing. Words only. Not like a phone call."

            "Like a pager?"

            "Uh... Sure." Rene looked a little confused and Mike rolled his eyes, laying back in bed. Man, did it feel pathetic to not know what technology was like anymore. Mike had taken at least ten minutes out of his day to explain to Rene what a damn walkman was. That was something he never thought would happen.

            Footsteps started to approach out in the hallway and Mike tensed up. Rene extended her arms, asking him to relax. It was two pairs of feet. Two people. Mike sat up in his bed, looking to the door.

            "That must be them." Rene cooed, trying to be calm. "Just stay put, I'll go get them."

            Them? Mike stiffened at the thought, wasn't it jut Erwin? Wasn't he talking only to that man? Who else had been strung along? Mike felt fear sinking into his gut. What if it was his wife? What would Mike say then? "Nice to meet you, person who stole my boyfriend when I was helpless and married him before I woke up." Mike bit down on his tongue.

            "I can't do this... Rene..." he mumbled quietly.

            "Come in Mister Smith." Rene called, swinging the door open.

            "Which one of us are you referring to?" Erwin returned.

            Rene chuckled, and stepped back. "Both of you of course. Come inside. Levi, right? I don't know if we've met before."

            "Probably, not on purpose." Levi responded.

            Mike tensed. He felt the world falling out from under him again. He wanted to hide again. But he couldn't. He could just watch. Just watch the world fall. Watch the people in front of him. Erwin walked in, holding a plastic bag full of beverages from the store on the first floor. And the second later, Levi trailed in right behind him. Levi. To which Erwin had become such a sweet name to say for Mike, saying 'Levi' felt like poison. Levi held onto another plastic bag of what looked like snack foods. Rene held them back a bit, and turned, smiling.

            "Mike, come stand up, show the Smith's you can walk." Rene cheered.

            The Smith's?

            Mike twitched, he stared off towards Levi. The two stayed where they were, Erwin looked hesitant as Mike stared, and Levi just continued to scowl. That scowl. That same scowl that twenty years never warped or distorted. That was Levi. That was his team member. That was his friend in the army. That was the man who saved his life in Kuwait. That was the man who now ruined his life by standing there. He watched Levi, his hand twisted around the bag. A small ring on his finger. Left ring finger. Silver metal band. Just like Erwin's.

            "Are you okay Mike?" Rene asked. "Maybe you should take it easy for now. Mister Mike had a pretty exciting morning he-"

            "I'm fine." Mike swung his legs off the bed, and slowly stood on his two feet. His own two feet. Mike stared down at the tile, as if the floor would shatter and he'd fall into a pit of the earth and die. That was if he was lucky. Mike had no such luck. He wobbled. His muscles got sore when he stayed in place, and he leaned his arm on the bed, turning to face Erwin and Levi. He couldn't face them though, he looked down to his side. He brought his weak arms up, plucking imaginary lint off his sleeve. When he summoned the courage to look up, he could still see Erwin, that same happiness that could only be seen in his eyes and not his smile. And a mildly amused look from Levi.

            "Come, come walk here Mike." Rene called him like a puppy, and Mike grit his teeth. He stepped forward. Each step felt like a dagger sunk into the heels of his feet. When he had the will to walk, it hurt less. Now, Mike barely had the will to continue breathing. Erwin looked so happy in his eyes, something Mike always knew he could see. Another step. Levi leaned forward. Mike wanted to push him away, pretend he didn't exist. But those were dreams. Mike had lived in a dream for twenty years. And maybe his body was just warning him that reality was nothing but horrifying.

            Mike didn't know when he made the last few steps, but he managed them out, enough to collapse against Erwin. His hand came around him, left hand. He felt warm. The world felt warm. And that cold metallic ring was strangling Mike. Mike looked up, noting Levi, a blank look on his face as Erwin had pressed his face against Mike's shoulder, holding his dear friend close. His boyfriend close. His ex-boyfriend. Mike looked at Levi. He wanted to scream, and at the same time, all the anger in his body left him when Erwin was wrapped up against him. He just wanted to die. Mike felt betrayed. Mike _had_ been betrayed, and he had been betrayed by the most unlikely source; the very person he had called his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm not so fluent in medical lingo please correct me if I used the wrong terms for certain hospital diagnosis. Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment for kudos if you enjoyed.


	2. Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Please read the tags if you haven't already. I'll place a warning here just in case. Intense swearing, existential thoughts, sexual assault and suicide are mentioned. Please read with the understanding of such topics.

Erwin sighed softly, pressing his knees to the soft cold grass of the earth. Morning dew had yet to be swept away by the scorching sun, and now was a good time to pull weeds. When the sun was high in the sky, the light was too strong for watering. You had to wait or the water would wilt the leaves and flowers. Erwin had worked on his gardening for a long time. Lavenders, white lilies, orchids and hyacinth. There was a few citrus trees, lemons and oranges, tomato vines scaling homemade wire boxes. The garden took time. A long time. The plants were meticulous little things.

       "Aren't we picking Mike up from the hospital today?" Levi's voice came to Erwin, and he raised his head, seeing the other walking slowly to the gazebo on the brick pathway. A bent cigarette held tight in his mouth. Grey smoke escaped his pale lips, and he planted himself in the lounge chair outside.

       "We are... I'm just making sure everything is in order." Erwin replied.

       "I cleaned the goddamn house five times. You were the one that kept double checking. What more do you want? I don't think Mike is going to break down and have a seizure because the hyacinths aren't blooming." Levi puffed more smoke, leaning his head back against the chair.

       "I know." Erwin was quiet. "I just want him to be comfortable." Erwin to a pair of shears and snipped the fresh lavender down a size. "I want him to be able to relax..."

       "He can't. You know that." Levi sighed sharply and turned his head. "You're going to go off on a tangent about some philosophical bullshit so just spit it out already."

       "What is that supposed to mean?" Erwin turned his head to look at Levi while he bundled the lavender, placing it on the side.

       "You know very well what I mean, I've been living with you for eleven goddamn years. You have that pattern. You get all sad, come outside and garden, and they you start rambling about existential things. So go ahead." Levi took a big inhale of smoke. Erwin shook his head, returning to snipping the lavender.

       "I know you don't want to hear it, but I'll say it anyway." Erwin sighed. "When I visited Mike every Saturday, I used to think he must've been psychic or something. Like he knew we were going to a bullshit war, and watch a bunch of people die. And get a ton of injuries. I felt like he knew that it was going to happen, and he just wanted out before he had to even deal with it. Of course, that was just ridiculous thinking. Mike couldn't avoid getting hurt that night. Mike didn't remember a single thing that had happened when he woke up. He still has so much to learn..."

       "Mhn...?" Levi watched Erwin as he finished cutting the lavender, taking the bundles and washing them in the sink that was attached to the wall of the house. "Go on."

       Erwin pinched his brows together. He sighed softly, looking to Levi, and folded his arms. "There was a man who got hit by a car while riding a bicycle when he was fifteen. Only his head was severely damaged, and he went into a coma for forty-five years. When he awoke, he was still that fifteen year old, trapped in a sixty year old body. He wanted to run and swim and play sports. He wanted to meet girls and he wanted to go joy riding. But in the end he just wasn't a fifteen year old. He couldn't do the things he wanted to do. His body couldn't keep up with him. The world passed him by. So he sat in his bed, fully conscious, and pretended to be asleep until he died." Erwin finished the story shaking off the dirt and water on the lavender, and leaving it atop the sink basin. Levi followed him, re-lighting his cigarette as he watched Erwin dust off his pants and come to sit next to him.

       "You made that story up didn't you?" Levi responded.

       "I didn't take creative writing in school for no reason." Erwin huffed.

       "You're such a goddamn philosopher." Levi hissed. "It's really unnecessary. But I know what you're trying to say. You're worried Mike can't come to terms with everything?"

       "No. I know he can come to terms." Erwin replied. "He's a strong man. I know he is. The thing that has been bothering me is... I... I don't know if Mike really wanted to wake up..." Erwin hesitated, the words on his tongue were poisonous, but he wanted to speak them, and he knew they needed to be said.

       "Maybe... Maybe Mike wanted to stay asleep forever."

       "Do you think that would be best?" Levi challenged, his eyebrow raised in amusement.

       Erwin pursed his lips in a thin line. He looked down at his gloves, pulling them off with his left hand and nudging the other with his mouth and right hand. The prosthetic arm glistened in early morning sun. A cold metal shine.

       "I don't know what Mike wants. Mike hasn't been speaking very much to me. I've been visiting him as much as I can but..." Erwin looked down at his hands. "He looks like he's in a lot of pain. If anything, I want him to be comforted. I just don't know how to comfort him. The stress must be agonizing."

       "You must realise that Mike doesn't really know he's forty. He's the same twenty one year old man. There's a lot we need to tell him. A lot you need to tell him."

       "I know." Erwin sighed, leaning back in his chair. He massaged the bridge of his nose, grimacing a bit at the sky. Cold winter skies marked the death of Erwin's garden, not that he cared very much, the trees always grew again, the flowers blossoms returned. Everything always came back to him. Erwin knew of patience. He knew how time worked. He had waited for Mike, twenty years for him, and he returned. Mike's infinite winter was over. For now. Erwin feared that infinity, that unconsciousness would return, and maybe Mike would be gone for good. He shuddered in his seat. Thoughts of death plagued Erwin from afar, he regretted that Mike had to deal with such thoughts alone.

       Blinking, Erwin brought his eyes back to the clear November skies. It would be cold tonight. It would probably rain tomorrow, and the frost would kill the flowers. They were on that precipice, to be wiped out in one night by a frozen assassin. Perhaps Mike was the same. Perhaps Mike woke up on the wrong side of the boundary he had lived on for twenty years. Perhaps Mike had been waiting to fall off the edge of the void and plummet into death. Instead he awoke in the land of the living. Smoke filled Erwin's lungs and his thoughts became clouded with the scent of cigarettes.

       "Levi.." Erwin came back to reality, finding Levi settled right against his legs, reaching out and bringing Erwin close. Levi had his hands cupping Erwin's face, cradling his jaw. He exhaled a ton of smoke against Erwin's face and he coughed to free himself of the scent, trying to get some oxygen to his lungs.

       "You're doing it again." Levi hissed. "Trying to shoulder the weight again. You're going to break your back if you carry everything again."

       Erwin analyzed what Levi said. He knew exactly what he meant. He knew exactly what Levi was talking about. That night, that night Erwin lived in complete shame of the atrocity he committed. Erwin was the driver. Mike wasn't the only passenger, but he was the one that ended up in a coma. Everyone else recovered. Mike had stayed the same. His body continued to bear the scars, and his mind continued to drain into emptiness. Erwin thought if Mike died, he would kill himself. How could he ever tell Mike's parents? Your son, of twenty-one years, went off to join the military, and me, his friend, his lover, I killed him. Erwin never let that thought go. I killed Mike. He was dead. Mike would never see me again, never care for me again, never forgive me. Erwin felt incredibly selfish for such a thought. Mike had suffered. He had seen the light fade in his eyes, his blood gushing from the wounds in his chest. Erwin was in the ambulance when the EMT's rushed to find him. Erwin held Mike's hand, feeling how cold it was, how cold it would remain for twenty years.

       "Stop it."

       Levi's voice came to break the thoughts again. Erwin shook his head. He could feel more smoke filling his lungs, and he coughed, pulling back.

       "Levi stop." Erwin hissed, pulling the cigarette out of the man's mouth.

       "You stop." Levi countered. "You're not helping Mike if you just sit here and eat yourself alive. For fucks sake. Mike came back from the fucking dead for us. He's tired, and he's lonely. You keep holding everything to yourself. This is my fault, this is all my fault." Levi mimicked a pitiful sounding voice. "Shut up. You can't do this all alone. You can't do shit by yourself. It hurts. Goddamn it Erwin, stop acting so blind. You were the fucking fool that told me that shit about leaving things behind." Erwin looked to Levi with a frown. His eyes deterred back to a heavy sadness in his blue eyes. He knew very well what Levi meant. A long while ago, Levi had believed to live was to leave nothing to the world. Erwin had told him it was the opposite.

       To live was to leave everything behind to the world.

       For a moment, Erwin realised what Levi was getting at. How could Mike live if he had nothing to leave behind? Everything he had was taken from him long ago. Covered in twenty years of dust and rust. His own life had passed him by, forgotten him like a doll. And it was Erwin who had done that to him. Taken his life away for twenty years. Erwin settled in his chair. He had to give to Mike. Give Mike everything he had taken away on that snowy January night. It was Erwin's own fault he had become nothing more than a shell of a man. He had to give back. But what could he possibly give? What could Mike want?

       Erwin gazed over Levi for a moment, and wrapped his arms around the man tightly. Levi dropped his head against his chest, and sighed softly. Time would only tell what could be given back to Mike.

       "You're such a fool." Levi murmured.

       "I know." Erwin replied. "I'm your fool, right?"

       Levi pressed his chin against Erwin's shoulder. Erwin gave a small smile, pulling him close to his body, embracing that moment they had. Wind shuddered the grass, the air was cold, the sunlight even chilled in the November skies. The two kept their silence, allowing the emptiness to be filled with the sound of wind. The drifting early morning passed over them, the only thing to tell them time was moving. Erwin kept his thoughts to himself. He didn't know what Mike wanted. He didn't know what to do. So until he did, Erwin decided, he would give Mike everything.

* * *

 

"Goodbye Mister Mike. You'll be in for check-ups every other week, okay?" Rene was pushing the wheelchair through the hospital entrance, and out to the cement pathway. The air rushed to greet Mike, like an old forgotten friend. He settled in the wheelchair, wondering if his legs would break on the way to the car, or perhaps the car would catch on fire. Maybe aliens would touch down on earth. Mike didn't want to go. He wanted to stay in the hospital, the only thing that had been his home for twenty long years.

            "Will you visit me?" Mike asked as if he feared Rene to be his temporary friend. It seemed all friends were temporary.

            "Of course. Maybe if you get a cell phone I can get your number." Rene replied, and adjusted the blanket around Mike's shoulders. "You'll be getting house checks too. Just to make sure everything is beneficial to your recovery."

            "Right..." Mike sighed softly. Nothing much had been hitting home for him. He still refused to watch TV, and he still refused to learn about the news. His body had not strengthened in the two months of time he had recovered. It was merely able to hold its own weight. Mike felt like an infant, needing to be monitored, being told when to do something, how to do something. That was only part of it. When he saw the car pull up close to the curb, parking in front of the hospital. Erwin got out of the car first, opening the door for Mike. Levi was in the driver's seat. Mike wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. He still couldn't, it hurt his mouth to speak, he had a feeling screaming would ruin his voice.

            The agony of being left behind in a hospital was nothing compared to this. He didn't want to live with Erwin. He didn't want to see his face, hear his voice. He didn't want to see Levi. But they were the only two people on earth that still visited Mike. That still treated Mike like he existed, and somehow, was still human. Mike had no other choice. He had to move on out of the hospital, and face the truth. These were his only friends. Two lovers. The man that had left him. His ex-boyfriend. Erwin. His ex-military leader. Levi. His only friends in the whole world. Mike curled up in the wheelchair. His legs were still so skinny and his arms were like beanpoles. Pathetic. Weak. Helpless. Mike's body outwardly expressed his inner personality. Rene and Erwin tried to help him in the car, but Mike stood up on his own, stalked forward a few feet, and collapsed against the side of the car.

            "Mike, let me help you." Erwin called, and brought his hands against Mike's body.

            "I'm fine." he hissed, and slid against the car, leaning on the door for support, and settled in the car seat. Mike shut the door as best he could, but he was too weak to shut it properly. The door clicked in place, and Erwin opened the door again, and gave the appropriate strength needed to shut the door.

            "Did you follow all the procedures?" Rene asked. "Bedroom o-"

            "On the first floor, not very far from the bathroom, intercom system. Yes, we did our best." Mike watched Erwin and Rene talk like he was their first puppy or something. He felt he had only several things to compare himself to, a dog or an infant. He felt like both sometimes. People just stared at him, and complimented every little thing he did on his own, and they talked down to him like he couldn't truly understand anything. Mike had been awake for a little under two months and he was already sick of the world all over again.

            Sometimes he wondered if he ever should've waked up.

            Mike sighed.

            That thought crept into his head and left him paralysed in terror every day. Wondering if he should have ever woken up. Each night, when he was all alone, he felt like his neck was being crushed, like someone was wrapping their hands around his neck, strangling him. Telling him to leave, Mike was not fit for this world. His fears left him in agony, and the one time people left him alone, when he was asleep, was the only time he felt desperate for a companion. Mike feared sleep. He feared that emptiness. He never told a soul about his sleeping problem. God forbid they would watch him all day and never give him time alone. He needed to be alone, but he was afraid. Night-time was poison to him. Mike could only sleep during the day. The sunlight helped his fear of darkness.

            "You okay Mike?" Erwin decided to sit in the back seat with Mike. "Are you glad to be leaving the hospital?"

            _No. I'm not glad. I'm terrified._

            Mike nodded.

            "Good. Our home is an hour drive away. So tell me if you want to stop or if you need anything."

            "Mhmn." Mike mumbled.

            "He's probably tired. Just leave him alone Erwin." Levi hissed. Mike blinked and shuffled against his seat. Erwin leaned back in his own seat, giving slight nod.

            "Right. You should get as much rest as possible." Erwin turned to Mike, pulling his seatbelt over him. Mike was tired of getting coddled but he didn't fight Erwin. He didn't want to. The ride was long, and Mike kept leaning towards the window, looking away from the two next to him. He didn't want to speak. He didn't want to see anything. He kept his eyes shut. He was sure he would've slept if he didn't fear it so much. They left the city, skidded through the suburban area, and wound up in an area that had one foot stuck in the countryside.

            The house was big and old. Very old. Chipped white paint, wooden boards with cracks in them. Two stories tall, a little brick chimney clashing with the exterior white paint. Mike could see the house was covered with greenery. Bushes of white and blue hydrangea lead up to the entrance. Around the backyard was tall oak trees, shading the house, as well as smaller citrus trees, lemons and oranges. There was a gazebo as well, a broken brick pathway leading to it. The area around was decorated in a garden of tomatoes and grapes and other things of such nature. Levi pulled up to a garage that had vines of pink-red morning glories climbing to the rooftops. The house was old, but not broken. It didn't look like a house he ever thought Erwin would live in. Not the Erwin he remembered anyway. It seemed like an old grandparent house, like the inside would be decorated in doilies and pictures of grandchildren and kittens. Like everything would nearly collapse in on itself. It seemed so broken up. He imagined Erwin as more of a mansion owner.

            "We're here. Are you okay Mike?" Erwin finally spoke up. Mike shut his eyes. He wanted to pretend he was asleep. He just didn't want to deal with this. He didn't want to live with his boyfriend. With his ex-boyfriend. In his pretty little house. With his pretty little _wife_. Or whatever Levi was considered. The second husband. Mike was trying not to think about it.

            "Are you asleep?" Erwin's voice was a little quieter. Mike scowled, but he stopped, trying to relax his face. He just wanted to be alone. He figured Erwin would shake him, or start to pull him out of the car. Instead, Mike heard the sound of the door shutting, and he realised Erwin had exited. Perhaps he was just going to leave him there? Fine, Mike thought, that was fine. Mike knew he was only a burden to them. Maybe he could just sleep in the car. Instead Mike felt the door on his side open and he swung a little, almost falling if his seatbelt didn't catch him.

            "Levi could you go unlock the front door?" Erwin asked, and Mike realised he was on his side of the car. Levi gave a silent reply and walked away, shutting the car off. Mike figured he was going to be woken up now. Erwin unbuckled his seatbelt, and he slowly opened his eyes. Erwin was placing his prosthetic arm up Mike's knees, and he slowly slid his left arm behind Mike's back. Mike blinked.

            "Mhn..." Mike mumbled.

            "Relax." Erwin replied, and in a quick motion, Erwin pulled him out of the car, holding Mike against his chest. Mike opened his eyes, looking around. He was still covered with a blanket, and despite all the clothing he was wearing, he was still so weak and skinny. Erwin had no problem carrying him, even when he was missing part of his right arm. Mike twisted his head around, looking to the yard. The grass was green, and the plants blossomed violently, as if they needed to show their last colours before they died off in the winter. Erwin held him close, Mike's head was up against his shoulder, next to his neck.

            Mike didn't remember much of his parents, but he felt like a child again. Pretending to sleep, and being scooped up by a father-figure, regardless of whether or not he was actually asleep. Mike breathed against Erwin, and he felt his grip bring him closer, holding him tight. Secure. Erwin wasn't ashamed to be holding the grown man, he looked to Mike admirably, it made Mike feel strange. Childish. Safe. Mike kept his eyes open, and leaned against Erwin.

            "You're home now." Erwin spoke, and lead him inside. Mike looked around. There was a little entrance area where to put their shoes, and a staircase at the front entrance of the house. There was a little table where Levi had put the keys to the car, and a long hallway with doors to different rooms. Erwin took him to what looked like a living room. There was a leather couch, a coffee table, a bookshelf full of old used books, and a flat screen TV. Mike had never seen a flat-screen TV. He didn't really want to ask about it. Technology was scaring him more than interesting him. Erwin looked around and down at Mike.

            "Your room is connected to this one. I know you can't walk too much, so I made sure you had a room that was close to everything." Erwin led him to a small room that was right next to the living room. Inside was, oddly enough, another TV. Mike had never lived in a house that had more than one TV, but he had to remind himself that eighties was over. The carpet was incredibly white, and clean. The bed was small, long, enough to fit Mike comfortably, given his height. Mike still hadn't stood straight since he woke up, and he wasn't so sure he could. There was a window on the wall the bed was pressed up to, and the wall next to it had another door to a bathroom. There was a desk, a lamp, an armchair. The ceiling fan rotated lazily above them. Erwin slowly kneeled down and laid Mike in the bed.

            "Do you want to sleep? I know they made you go through a few physical and mental tests before they discharged you... You must be tired." Erwin kept over him, gently brushing his hair behind his ear, slowly sweeping his hand behind Mike's head, supporting him for a moment. Mike didn't know why, but instinctively, he reached over to Erwin's hand, pulling it from under his head, and held onto it. Erwin physically flinched. He gave a warm smile, and looked down. Mike continued to hold his hand, keeping it down against the bed.

            "You don't know how shocked we were to hear you had awoken..." Erwin gave a scoff, and his thumb began to brush Mike's hand softly. "I couldn't believe it when they said you'd awoken..."

            Erwin paused, his hand still gripping Mike's, and he continued to pet his thumb against Mike's hand. "You see, Mike... when someone falls into a comatose state, they give you three months to a year before they deem you a 'vegetable'. Meaning you weren't going to wake up. You were always going to be asleep. I didn't believe them. I kept trying to tell them that if they visited you, you'd respond... You would move. There was days where you move your eyelids. They couldn't really say you were doing it consciously or unconsciously. Consciousness... it's hard to clarify it. I remember... you were laying in bed, and I put my hand on yours. You grabbed it. I know you don't remember... I'm sorry, if I'm only stressing you out more... I felt you should know. I just knew you were alive. I couldn't give up on that."

            Erwin gave another short sigh, and he looked down at Mike. Mike felt his stomach tightening. It always felt strange to hear stories of times where he was no aware of his life. Twenty years of stories. Rene had already told him enough, and he knew it would never be enough. He didn't want to hear stories about himself, he didn't care about that. He wanted to hear stories of his family, stories of his friends. Of time that had passed where not a thing had happened to him. Instead Erwin continued on about the treatment.

            "When you woke up... I didn't even speak when they called. I couldn't say a thing. I started crying." Erwin's voice was quiet. So very quiet. Mike never remembered hearing him this way, except nights when they were alone together. Times when they slept in the same bed. Times when they talked about life. Mike felt like deep down inside, Erwin did save him.

            "Thank you..." Mike mumbled quietly, like he wanted to hide those words from the world. Only Erwin was allowed to hear him.

            "No need to thank me... I didn't do a thing. It was the doctors and nurses who cared for you during the coma..." Erwin replied.

            "Thank you for waiting." Mike added. He didn't want to play with his words since it hurt so much to talk. His jaw still got sore from talking too much. Erwin's facial features softened, and he looked nearly damaged. Mike realised his words, but he couldn't take them back. He did thank Erwin for waiting. From the sound of it, Erwin was the one that waited the longest. But that wedding ring around his finger was a symbol of something very different.

            "I'm sorry, you're probably tired and stressed out. I don't want you to have to ache over this..." Erwin shook his head. "I'm going to be horrible at this. But I want to help you recover. If you need anything, I don't want you to hesitate. If you want to ask any questions, go right ahead and ask them. Okay?"

            _Why did you get married?_

            "Okay." Mike replied.

            "Do you want to do anything right now? Eat? Watch TV? Go outside?"

            _Hang myself perhaps?_

            "I'm fine." Mike brought his grip around Erwin's hand just a bit firmer. Erwin looked down at the man, and gave him a soft smile.

            "All right. There's a little box on the table with a button on it. It's an intercom. If you need something just press it. Levi will help you, I'll be right back in just a minute. I have to go pick up the kids."

            "Kids?" Mike raised his brow, turning to face Erwin. "What kids?"

            "Don't worry, they aren't very noisy... Oh, I never talked to you about them did I? I never got to introduce you to my kids. I guess I should have warned you earlier, but they're a very close group. They won't bother you while you're recovering. You can meet them in a bit. I have to pick them up from school."

            Kids?

            Mike was still processing what Erwin just said. Kids? His kids? Mike wanted to ask a question, Mike wanted to ask a million questions. Instead, he bit his tongue, and spoke with little to no care in his voice.

            "Okay... stay safe." Mike mumbled. He turned on his side, facing the wall, and let go of Erwin's hand. Kids. Mike felt Erwin pat his shoulder, and exit the room, shutting the door on his way out. Mike stared at the white wall, paint chipping, wind drifting through the window. Married. Kids. House in the country. Who was this man? Was this really Erwin Smith? The man he knew? The man who said he'd love him forever? No. This was a lie... This was an impostor. Mike grit his teeth. He started to make more excuses in his head. This Erwin wasn't real. A clone. A robot. A copy. Something similar. Not the real thing. Tears were falling down Mike's face. He could feel them, but he tried to pretend they weren't real too. This wasn't real. These tears weren't real. This world wasn't real.

            It didn't help.

            It never helped.

            Mike covered his face with his hands. Over the course of intense therapy it seemed like this was the only thing he got out of it. He was really good at crying, and now his arms were strong enough to cover his face. His stomach churned, it felt like sickness was there, but Mike was tired of vomiting. He was tired of being sick. He was tired of living. Mike couldn't begin to tell Erwin how much he didn't want to live in his house. But the hospital wanted Mike to be a success story, they wanted him to be able to go back into a regular everyday life. Mike knew that because of his coma, all of a sudden he was famous for existing. For surviving. Mike didn't want to be famous. He wanted to be normal. Hell, he'd rather be dirt poor. He wanted to be with his family. He wanted to be with his boyfriend. Two things he no longer had. That was all Mike wanted. Life had a unique way of fucking with him.

            _"Um..."_

            Mike choked on his sob, his body freezing up like ice. He turned his head, looking to the source of the voice. Levi stood at the door to his room, holding a small table to prop on the bed. Mike could see he had brought something to eat. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, covering his face. Levi had an uncomfortable look on his face, and he set the food down on the desk.

            "I... can go... if you want..." He struggled out, staring at Mike. Mike shuddered, he wanted to speak, but his voice was ruined with crying. Mike looked down at himself and shook his head. Levi looked a little dismayed and turned, facing the door.

            "Okay... I'll be right back. I'll get something to drink. And tissues. Don't you dare blow your nose in my damn sheets." Levi hissed, and he turned away, leaving Mike to himself. Mike knew he had only a few seconds to clean himself up. He rose from his bed, wiping his eyes and sniffing in any mucus he had. He rubbed his fingers against his nose. He hated sucking mucus in, it was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world, especially to his sensitive nose. He swallowed hard, and stared across the room. He could see trails of vapour drifting from the table. It was a bowl of soup. Chicken noodle, if his nose was working properly. Levi returned with a glass of ginger ale and a box of tissues, setting them on the small nightstand near the bed, next to the lamp. Mike looked down at himself, he didn't want to look Levi in the eyes.

            "All right, what's a matter?" Levi hissed, he set the soup table in front of Mike and rolled the desk chair over, straddling it as he sat at the side of Mike's bed.

            "I'm fine." Mike replied, looking down at the soup.

            "Bullshit." Levi answered.

            Mike twitched, looking down at his soup. His fingers wrapped around the spoon and he placed it in the bowl. He sucked in some air, his nose still stuffed, and he sighed, hesitating to speak before wracking his brain for a good excuse.

            "I have allergies." Mike returned.

            "To sadness?"

            "To dust."

            "I vacuumed this room seven goddamn times before you set foot in it. There isn't any dust." Levi snapped. He stared Mike down. He never lifted his head. His blonde hair was just long enough to block his eyes. Levi sneered a bit, folding his arms.

            "Fine." he continued. "We can talk later. Eat. You need to eat. You're a goddamn flagpole. Get some meat on your bones, for your own sake."

            Mike kept his eyes on the soup. It smelt nice. Pleasant. He wanted to say he really wasn't very hungry, but he feared opposing Levi. He took a very small spoonful, and tried to take his time. He had never been pressured to eat as much as he had been after the coma, and he really didn't want to do it. His stomach always felt flat and small, and any little amount of food made Mike full. He couldn't eat and walk right after because he would throw up. Eating too much made him feel sickly. Mike let the spoon slowly settle into the bowl, reaching out to get a tissue. His eyes trailed to Levi, and he flinched, seeing the man's glare.

            "Spit it out." Levi hissed. "I can see it. I won't answer a question you don't ask."

            Mike hesitated. He felt like Levi knew the question on his tongue. He sighed softly, and looked up slowly, wishing to try and look Levi in the eyes.

            "How long have you two been married?" Mike's chest throbbed when he spoke, and it faded, the sensation faded. He breathed, it felt like something of a release.

            "How long have we been married? Or together?" Levi replied, leaning forward. Mike tensed up slightly.

            "Both..." He was slow to speak.

            Levi gave a soft sigh, and leaned on the back of the chair. "Married for three years. We've been together for eleven years. We had a civil union up until we could get married. I guess that was... eight-ish years ago. Or nine. Whenever we got the kids."

            Mike felt his stomach twist into a knot. So much for eating. He set the spoon down into the soup, and shifted back, feeling his back pressed to the wall. The house creaked when he leaned on it, and he twitched slightly, unsure of the houses stability.

            "He didn't tell me... anything..." Mike mumbled under his breath.

            "I know. Erwin didn't know how to tell you. I figure I do it for him." Levi replied. "He wasn't happy about it you know? The day we got married he came to your hospital room and cried next to you for god knows how long." Levi shook his head slightly, as if the memory was one he didn't think was true. "He told me, that he brushed your hand and you grabbed him. And he felt like maybe you understood. Some shit like that."

            "I don't remember a goddamn thing..." Mike muttered, hands curling into fists against his bed sheets. "I don't _understand_ a goddamn thing..."

            "I know you don't remember shit, that's why we're trying to help you. For fucks sake Mike, it's been twenty years. I don't know what that feels like. It's horrible, I'm sure." Levi retorted, his arms folded.

            "Imagine waking up and all of a sudden your husband is my husband, and divorced you, but he didn't take your things because you don't have anything. And now he pities you and is keeping you in a small bedroom next to the living room." Mike hissed, trying to keep his words together. Levi gazed over him for a moment, seeing Mike's eyes turning red and wet with tears.

            "You must hate every part of my body." Levi replied. "And I had a feeling you would, because I know I'd be fucking pissed. So for the life of me I don't know what to do to make this any easier for you."

            "You could die." Mike replied shortly.

            Levi grinned and gave an amused chuckle.

            "I'm glad we can be honest with each other." Levi hissed. "You're still the same Mike that almost died Kuwait. I know you've been bullshitting your personality lately. So give me a goddamn break okay? I have kids to take care of, I have a husband who doesn't realise he's an idiot sometimes, and I have you. Time only abandons us Mike, as long as we choose to ignore it." Levi stood up, and turned, placing the chair back by the desk. Mike watched the man, and Levi turned to look at him. "I know you're not going to eat, so I'll leave the soda. Erwin bought you some clothes, you're around Erwin's size, just longer. I'll go grab them." Levi turned to the door that led to the hallway, and paused one last time.

            "Hey... I know you need time to catch up, and stress out, and whatever the fuck. If you do... I'm going to sound like a fucking asshole for this, but don't fucking cry in front of my kids. I don't want them to stress out too. If you really need to cry... just call me on the intercom. I'll bring tissues or whatever the fuck, so you don't mess up my sheets." Levi rubbed the back of his neck, and exited. Mike stared empty at the doorframe for a while, contemplating what he had been told. He scoffed, sliding back into bed. Of all the people he had thought would offer him a shoulder to cry on, he never would have thought it was Levi.

* * *

 

Mike had been given a long-sleeved green shirt, black jeans and a pair of socks. It was warm, but he still kept the blanket from the hospital wrapped around himself. Mike had never gotten a good look at himself until he changed in the bathroom. The mirror revealed to him scars of the night of the car accident, scars by his ribcage where they re-inflated his lung. Scars on his chest and back where he was thrown through a windshield and slid across the road ten metres. Mike examined these scars for a long time, but no memories broke the surface. They had been lost. Mike was sure that those memories resided in the same place he had resided for twenty years. Oblivion. The world of nothingness. Perhaps where all forgotten memories were.

            When Mike was fully dressed, it occurred to him that the clothing he had been given, was the only thing he still owned in the world. His car was destroyed, his home was gone, his dog and parents had long since died. He settled against the bed, Levi had long since taken away the soup he wasn't eating. Mike wrapped the blanket around himself. The only things he had left to the world, a blanket and a pair of clothes. How pathetic.

            Levi left him alone for the rest of the time Erwin was gone, and Mike knew that it was for the best. He kept himself upright, sitting on the bed, examining his socks. He flexed his toes in them, his reaction was no longer delayed, but it certainly wasn't strong. Mike truly hoped no one knew the extent of his weakness, he felt like anyone could crush him like a bug and he'd be gone. It scared him, almost as much as it made him want to die.

            There was a bit of commotion outside the doors to his room, both of which had been shut. It sounded like children. Erwin was home. Mike tensed, pressing back to the wall. The wood creaked again and he tensed. Eventually the noise turned to loud whispers, and the childish voices began to shush each other. Mike could see the doorknob twisting and he shifted back, curling the blanket around him, listening intently.

            "Shh- shut up! He's asleep." Mike could hear murmuring on the other side of the door that lead to the hallway.

            "Don't say shut up, that's rude."

            "Just stop talking-"

            The door swung open, and Mike saw two pairs of eyes staring at him. Dark black and greenish-blue. Mike could see a smaller girl, red scarf wrapped up to her chin, and a boy with wide eyes and a shocked expression. The boy reached forward and slammed the door shut again.

            "I told you he wasn't asleep." the girl spoke.

            "Aw, shut it. How was I suppose to know?" the boy hissed back.

            "Mikasa, Eren! Leave him alone!" Levi's voice trailed out from the kitchen, and Mike gave a relaxed sigh. The two children ran down the hall, their footsteps creaking on the wooden floors.

            "Dad said we could see him!" Eren remarked.

            "Don't blame your father. Now go to your rooms, both of you." Levi replied. "Where's Armin?"

            "He's helping dad with the stuff." Eren replied.

            "What stuff?" Levi asked.

            "The stuff he bought." Eren replied, smiling.

            "The stuff he-? Did you go to the grocery store?" Levi asked.

            "Yes." Mikasa replied.

            Levi shook his head, hissing out a breath. "I told him we can't..." Levi mumbled, and patted the two on the shoulder. "Go upstairs. Now."

            "Yes mom." they obeyed Levi's orders, Mike could hear the two trotting up the creaky staircase, Eren still chuckling and speaking to Mikasa. Mike settled against his bed, feeling the first floor go quiet. Another pair of footfall. Mike wasn't sure whether he should feign sleeping or not.

            "We're back." came a child's voice.    

            "I'm well aware Armin. Safe and sound." Levi asked.

            "Safe enough." Armin replied.

            Levi rolled his eyes. "You go up to Eren's room okay? We set up the bed for you."

            "Is Mike already here?" Armin asked, for a child he sounded very matter-of-factly.

            "Just call him Mister Zacharias." Levi responded. "I need to talk to dad, so go upstairs."

            "Can I visit him?" Armin asked.

            Levi hesitated, looking down at the blond boy.

            "Just don't bother him if he's tired, leave him alone. Here-" Levi kneeled, "Give me the groceries." Mike could hear the sound of paper bags being exchanged, and a knock came on his door, followed by a short blond child with wide blue eyes. Armin straightened out, squaring his shoulders.

            "Hi. I'm Armin. I'm Erwin's son. Your name is Mike Zacharias, right?"

            Mike was mildly impressed by the introduction. It seemed well rehearsed, much like the physical therapist at the hospital. Breaking the ice with a familiar name and stating their reason for being in Mike's presence. _Hi, I'm going to be your physical therapist. Rene told me about you. You're Mike yes?_ He ground his teeth, trying not to say the phrase that became instinctive of Mike to reply with. _I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else._ Though the line never worked, Mike had been in the papers for his twenty year coma, tons of people took pictures without his permission, so everyone had an idea of what he looked like.

            Armin hesitated to come forward while Mike had said nothing. Mike lifted his gaze, staring to the boy.

            "I'm sorry. Do you have aphasia? I won't bother you if-"

            "No, it's okay." Mike remarked. "I don't have aphasia. It's nice to meet you."

            "Oh that's good." Armin replied, feeling more comfortable to come in the room, shutting the door behind him. Armin climbed into the armchair at the foot of the bed. A large red velvet covered chair, it dwarfed Armin as he sat in it. Mike had a feeling he looked the same, small and drawn in.

            "Careful of the ceiling fan. It can fall if you put it on high, but it's nearly winter anyway, so I'm sure you won't have to use it. In that case mind the radiator... it's sprung a leak a few times, and messed up my books once." Armin huffed. "I mean, at least it didn't burst or anything, because I'm sure I would have lost my head." Mike noted the radiator by the bookshelf, and gave a nod of appreciation for the details.

            "I guess this must be your room, huh?" Mike huffed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take it from you."  
            "I don't mind. I can sleep in Eren's room. He talks in his sleep sometimes, but he's not that bad. I got a room on the first floor because I have bad knees. But I'm not that bad, you need it more than I do." Armin pulled his khaki pants up to his knees, revealing short scars cutting over his kneecaps. Mike looked over him for a moment, giving a short nod.

            "What happened?" Mike inquired. Armin shrugged his shoulders, looking back up at Mike.

            "I don't know. It happened when I was really little. Someone broke my knees. I guess they just had a mental problem. I was in a wheelchair for a while until I was old enough to get my knees replaced. Thankfully, I can't take sports because it could make the joints worse. So I don't have to do gym in school." Armin grinned a bit as if he was proud of such a feat. Mike gave a soft scoff, and a nod of understanding. Gym had never been very nice, a class full of pent up teenagers given permission to roughhouse each other. Plus, Armin seemed too smart to be someone that appreciated sports, though Mike felt that was a bit of a stereotype.

            "Your muscular damage must be heavy after twenty years, but it's better than mental damage. At least I think so." Armin continued, pulling his pants down away from his knees. "Would you agree?"

            Mike hesitated to answer, thinking the question through a bit. Armin certainly seemed to be more in depth about questions than Mike thought he would be. "I suppose... it depends on your mentality... literally." he replied. "I'm not so sure I'd rather be mentally strong than physically. Becoming mentally aware of my surroundings lately seems to have been more painful than helpful..."

            "Mhn..." Armin hummed, folding his arms. "Knowledge makes you powerful, but it doesn't make you happier. Ignorance is bliss, right?"

            "Yeah... that's pretty smart." Mike remarked.

            "Oh, the guy from the Matrix said it."

            "The what?"

            "Oh, it's a movie that came out in the 90's. With two slightly mediocre sequels."

            "Ah..." Mike hesitated, unsure of what Armin was talking about. "Perhaps I should watch it sometime."

            "Probably not. It kind of ruined my life. But that's Hollywood anyway." Mike suppressed a laugh at the comment. Armin was certainly interesting given his age. He matured far too quickly, and Mike decided not to pester on why.

            "You're real sharp, huh? You should be a therapist or something." Mike commented. Armin grimaced, bringing his knees up to his chest.

            "I thought about it once, but I don't want to deal with lots of crazy people..."

            "You've thought about being a psychologist?"

            "It was more of a phase... I'm not proud of it." Mike smirked, trying not to laugh again.

            "What do you want to be then?" he replied, tilting his head.

            "Paediatric surgeon probably. I was thinking neurosurgeon too maybe, but it seems so complicated. Paediatric surgery isn't any easier, but it's good money. The brain is a strange thing... Did you know there was a woman in Croatia that got hit by a car, went into a coma, and when she awoke she spoke fluent German? They said she took German in school, but she was never fluent in it. They can't figure out why. Don't you think that's strange? Do you remember Arabic? Dad- I mean, Erwin said that you had to learn it during basic training. He taught me some." Armin then began to speak in a different language. It sounded similar, like Mike had heard it before, but it fell on deaf ears.

            "Do you know what I said?" Armin asked. Mike could only shake his head in disagreement.

            "Really? Huh. I said Hello, I'm Armin, how are you? That's what da- Erwin said it means." Armin explained.

            "You can call Erwin dad, it doesn't bother me." Mike lied.

            "It seems a little immature... I feel I should treat them professionally. You included. Everyone has been so stressed out lately. I feel I should be as delicate as possible. It's like everyone in this house has some sort of problem."

            Mike scoffed. "Yeah, and I'm not helping am I?"

            "I doubt you could make it worse..." Armin replied. "Right now I know they're arguing about buying groceries. Mom- um, Levi, didn't pay the gas bill this month, and we're behind on some bill payments..." Armin sighed, and raked his fingers through his hair, much like Erwin did when he was stressed.

            "I hate to ask something personal... but I think you can handle it..." Mike mumbled. "Has your family always been in a bad money situation?"

            Armin hesitated for a moment, and shook his head. "No... not always. We used to live in this really big house out in the city. Near that hospital you were at. Um... I don't remember exactly when, but Erwin said we had to move one day. That it would be a lot easier for us to live out in the country like this."

            "Did he lose his job?" Mike asked.

            "No, he still has the same job. He's busy every day except Saturday and Sunday. He visited you on his Saturdays though... He's been picking us up from school now that he's on his vacation leave. He said he wanted to be here for you for at least a few weeks."

            "Oh..." Mike held his own hands together, twisting his fingers around. "What about your mother?"

            "Levi? He said his job is taking care of us. He stays at home all the time. It's always been that way. Ever since we started living with them, even before we lived here."

            Mike turned his head in confusion, leaning back. "Then... why did your father move to this house?"

            "Erwin said we have to make sacrifices for the people we love. I don't really know what he meant by that, he said he had a debt to pay. I think Erwin can be a little vague sometimes... he does it on purpose."

            Mike's stomach twisted. he felt his muscles freezing up, as if poison had been shot into his veins. Mike gripped the blanket, looking to Armin in shock. The messages were clicking in his head, and there was only one question on his tongue. He didn't want to ask, but he knew he needed to know the answer.

            "Armin... what year did you move into this house?" Mike whispered. Armin pursed his lips together tight. "Um... 2003... so.. seven years ago?"

            "And what month?"

            "Um... March. Yeah. Mikasa's birthday was the month before... why?"

            Mike felt sick. He gripped his stomach as if to coax himself to not vomit. He gazed at Armin, his stare going past him, as if Mike was looking to oblivion again. He didn't want the answers in his head to click, but they did. And the very notion of such a realisation made Mike feel hollow inside, as if there was nothing left to him.

            "That's... the same month my parents died."

            Rene had explained it all. His parents were older citizens, and the Zacharias family must've had a curse put on them about cars. They had gotten into a head on collision with another car. They were not as cursed as Mike, because they both died instantly. Together. Mike was barely holding himself together over that. Rene comforted him as best as he could. It never occurred to him that the hospital bill for his stability treatment had moved on to another party. There was no way Erwin said those things out of philosophy. There was no way their lives got more difficult when their stories never changed. No, suddenly a debt was on Erwin's head, and Mike knew exactly what debt it was. Armin's eyes widened with shock.

            "Oh... I..." Armin stuttered out, for a rare moment, unsure what to say. "Dad never said your parents died..." he mumbled. "I didn't know... I guess it makes sense now..."

            Mike pressed his back against the wall. His hands trembled. Sweat formed at the back of his neck. His whole body felt infected by such a sudden sense of shock, and guilt.

            "So Erwin was the one paying my hospital bill..." Mike whispered. "For the past seven years..." Mike twitched when Armin slowly sat on the foot of the bed, coming closer to Mike. He felt like he was infected. Like everyone should stay away from him. He was a horrible poison to this family. He had forced them to move to a shitty broken down home in the middle of nowhere. He had been stressing them out on their bill payments. He had tormented them, just by doing nothing for years.

            A hand came down on his back, and another arm wrapped around his chest. Armin pulled him close, allowing him against his chest. The boy looked serious, and settled close to Mike.

            "I won't tell them that I know... I think dad- Erwin.. was trying to hide it from us..." Armin explained. "I'm sorry. Learning this all at once must be really painful. I know how much it hurt when I learned my parents died..."

            "It's fine... but please don't apologise..." Mike felt his stomach mixing again, his mind falling into turmoil he had been through before. He wanted to know when enough would be enough. When this infliction of pain would cease. But it never seemed to happen. "I'm tired of hearing 'I'm sorry.'... so please don't say that."

            "I know... people don't seem to mean it when they say it... they're trying to be sorrowful for you, say that they're sorrowful... but it's not a cushion... It's just words..." Mike wasn't sure how to respond. He couldn't anymore. He was tired or speaking. Tired of listening. Tired of apologies. Armin pulled him in closer. Mike was too lost for words to figure out what to say back. Mike looked to Armin, gingerly wrapping an arm around his back to reciprocate the affection.

            "You're a real nice kid..." Mike said.

            Armin pinched his brows together like Erwin did, and gave a frown.

            "I'm not a kid. I'm twelve, I'm almost a teenager." Mike gave a short scoff of a laugh. Even then Armin could not stop his own impulsive words. His own feelings. The only thing left. Mike gave no more responses, so Armin gave no more words. Mike let the moment be as it was. Silent. A near perfect sound for Mike. The very sound he produced for twenty years, now there to accompany him in the sensation of falling apart.

* * *

 

            The sun rose and set and rose again. Within those short days snow began to fall, and wiped out the plants almost overnight, as if they never existed in the first place. The trees were brown-grey trunks with dead branches sticking out, a shell of its once vibrant self. Armin became something of a therapist to Mike, and something of a friend. He kept his promise, never telling Erwin that he knew the truth of why they lived in such a dilapidated house.  Mike also said nothing. He never brought it up. He never brought anything up. Until someone asked, Mike acted as if he didn't know what anything was. The stress inside Mike grew to be overwhelming. His ex-boyfriend never seemed to bring up their past anymore. Levi kept a very tense personality around him, and brought the food to his room. Mike had never eaten at the table with the family. He had a feeling Levi didn't want him to. Eren and Mikasa were only a year younger than Armin, but they were still like children. Armin had a sense of knowledge to himself, one Mike sought after with little hope. The house was still uncomfortable to Mike, he had never been upstairs, his poor skinny legs couldn't carry him up there, and even then, he wasn't wanted there. He wasn't wanted anywhere.

            He wasn't supposed to live here.

            He wasn't supposed to exist.

            Every day Mike felt those messages drive deeper into his head.

            Yet for small moments at dusk, Mike felt a sense of peace. Erwin was free from work, but it didn't deter him from being busy with family, busy with finances, busy with fixing their broken-down house. Over the past days, Erwin would come and sit beside Mike in the desk chair, and talk to him calmly. Lovingly. His fingers came to caress his skin, brushing his hair back. It was soothing. Most nights Erwin would talk, but some, Erwin would stay there in silence, simply gazing over Mike as if he was a wonder to behold. As if to rejoice in his existence. Mike felt his breathing get shallow when Erwin was near, his heart skipped beats, his hands trembled, his body went numb. He felt like he was worth something. Like his existence still mattered. Those moments where Erwin would caress his cheek, or run his fingers through his hair felt perfect. Almost perfect.

            If it wasn't for that damned wedding ring.

            Mike could feel Erwin's ring scraping against his skin when he caressed the side of his cheek, or patted his shoulders. It drove him insane, but he could never bring himself to ask Erwin to take it off. He wasn't sure how Erwin would take it. So he allowed it, instead Mike shut his eyes, and tried to taken in Erwin's scent. The smell of his skin was the most soothing thing in the world.  Every night they had those moments the session was broken by Levi, who would bring some dinner to eat, and Erwin would bid him goodnight, kiss his cheek, and go have dinner with his family.

            Only a day ago, when the snow got heavier, Erwin had given Mike a beige wool sweater. Erwin didn't buy him one, it was from his closet. It was old, used, beaten up. The sleeves, even on Mike's long arms, reached to his palms, the chest part was too big, draping over his shoulders. Mike adored it. He didn't take it off. It smelt exactly of Erwin's skin. It calmed him, made him peaceful. It was the only thing he had to ease his stress. And at night when the others were upstairs, tucked away to sleep, Mike stole himself away to the bathroom. He kept a small light on, his hand roaming to his jeans, palming his crotch. He tugged his pants open, stroking himself. The sweater would be pulled up to his shoulders, the fear of dirtying it, and the need for its scent to be close, both key in Mike's mind. He would hold the cloth tight in one hand, imagining Erwin's mouth on him, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. Mike shuddered at his own thoughts, his own dreams. He remembered moments of when they were alone, still very otherworldly, dreamers, inexperienced. They would tease and experiment in secret. But that was a long time ago, twenty years ago, what felt like lifetimes. Now all Mike had was Erwin's sweater, and a senseless, erotic dream.

            The sticky mess of his hand would be washed away, wiped off and flushed down the drain. He'd wash himself off in the sink, trying to keep himself orderly. He never thought that masturbation would be exhausting, but this world had thrown him one obstacle after another. He'd stumble towards his bed, only a short distance from the bathroom, tried to compose himself, smoothed out his clothing, and found a dark sense of sleep overcome him.

            And eventually, that aching urge inside him got harder to contain. Stress only built up more and more. The sweater wasn't enough. Mike wanted Erwin. He wanted to be held and caressed all the same as it was that twenty years ago. It wasn't an urge, it was a sickness. Mike wanted a cure. Erwin was his only answer.

            It was late in December, Christmas break was nearing for the kids, and they were gone for long hours of the day. Levi was out buying groceries, trying to think of what to buy for Christmas. Erwin had been outside, shovelling snow from the pavement, cutting the dead branches off the trees in hopes of preserving them. The house was quiet.

            Erwin was alone with Mike.

            Mike exited the house, stepping through the kitchen, leaving through the sliding glass door which had fogged with frost. He hesitated, looking for Erwin. He was busy scraping the snow off of the brick pathway, throwing rock salt over it. Mike looked around, and stepped into the snow. It made his toes numb, and he removed his socks to keep from dirtying them. Erwin had a pair of shears resting at his hip. Mike reached out, brushing his fingers over Erwin's pants, resting his hand on Erwin' hip. Erwin twitched, and snapped forward, twisting around to see who had touched him, and found himself right next to Mike.

            "Jesus, I didn't hear you.." Erwin huffed. "Mike, are you okay? What are you doing outside?"

            Mike stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Erwin looked to him with a certain curiosity. He had such a sweet gaze. It made Mike feel almost happy. Almost.

            "Mike, you don't have any shoes on. Aren't you cold?" Erwin asked. He dropped his shovel, reaching out to brush Mike's shoulder. "Come, let's go inside."

            Mike was near unresponsive. He gave Erwin a small smile, and leaned forward, pressing to his shoulder, and wrapping his arms around Erwin. His hands clawed at the fabric of his thick jacket, and he placed his head against Erwin's shoulder, leaning his weight into him.

            "Oh- Mike... are you okay? You don't look well." Mike was shaking, his fingers coming to Erwin's jacket and pulled the zipper apart in one quick motion. Mike was pale, his face flushed a reddish colour. He leaned into the jacket opening, burying his face to Erwin's chest.

            "Oh? Mike...? What's the matter with you? I'm going to take you inside okay?"

            This scent.

            Mike pressed himself to Erwin, encompassing him. He had been working that day, and his skin had a thin layer of sweat, his skin still warm from it all. Mike pressed himself harder against Erwin, leaning into his body. He brought his foot up, placing it to Erwin's ankle, and pushing him over it in one fluid motion. Erwin stumbled back, and fell into the snow, Mike collapsed on top.

            "H-hey! Jeez- Mike, what are you doing?"

            "We've done it before... In the snow." Mike mumbled, his voice audibly strangled. He was nervous, uncomfortable. Mike's voice had become something of a murmur, a slight rasp in it. He had rarely talked, Armin was the only person who spoke to him. Erwin was the only person who came close to him, who caressed him. Those touches felt different from before. From the brutal passionate people they had been before. Erwin had become gentle, sweet, kind. Mike wanted more than that. He was convinced this was a release for Erwin as it was for him. He was still something like a boyfriend, wasn't he? Those things Erwin had gone through, that suffering, he had done it out of love.

            "Mike. What are you talking about? Please get off of me."

            Mike placed his hands over Erwin's head, against his shoulders. He leaned in, and allowed himself to rest on the man's body. His knee slowly came up close, pressing to Erwin's groin.

            "Mike... Stop that."

            Mike twitched at the command. This wasn't the Erwin that Mike remembered. Play fighting as children, Erwin would easily kick his ass. He would raise his hand in defiance at any sign of Mike beating him. This Erwin, the one before him now, he hesitated. Mike could see it. His muscles had disintegrated inside of his own body over twenty years. Erwin could easily throw him off, twist him around, break him, kill him. But he didn't. He wasn't able to bring his hand up to Mike. Mike hesitated strongly at Erwin's reaction. He wasn't so sure he knew this man. This man was Erwin, definitely. But not the Erwin he knew.

            Mike had to know he was real.

            He brought his hands down, grabbing the shears that were on Erwin's pants. Erwin's eyes flickered.  Mike picked up the blade-like scissors, and opened them. He didn't move. He didn't fight. With full knowledge that Mike could cut open his neck and kill him right then and there, Erwin did nothing. He allowed Mike to outburst. Mike brought the shears to Erwin's collar.

            Mike brought the shears down.

            Erwin heard a ripping noise. It was nothing like flesh. No, it was cloth. Erwin opened his eyes, realising he had shut them when Mike brought the shears to his neck. Mike was tearing open his shirt. Erwin did nothing. He relaxed his body, watching the man rip his shirt apart. Mike tore at the cotton, pulling the undershirt apart as well, shredding it open. Was this the same Erwin? Could he really be? Maybe everything was just a lie. A cruel joke. Mike ripped open Erwin's shirt, and dropped the shears.

            Erwin's chest was riddled with scars, his right arm still baring red scarred flesh of an explosion from long ago. Mike pursed his lips together. This body had suffered. But in the past. Many years ago. Many scars, many injuries. This body was Erwin's. Mike had known this man, but what laid before him was not a twenty-one year old. Not anymore. Erwin had changed.

            Time had been cruel to Erwin, and Mike realised, perhaps time was not so cruel to him at he thought. Time had simply forgotten about him. Perhaps ever so often a few people had fallen between the cracks in time. Forced to stare off into oblivion, never to return. Time had abandon him, but Mike was different. Because time had returned. Others never awoke their comas. Their death sleep. Mike had been through twenty peaceful years, not a single thing to hurt him, to cause him harm. Mike was one of the lucky ones. Now he knew for sure.

            _"Mikey..."_ Erwin mumbled.

            No.  Don't use that name. Only Erwin called Mike that. No one else got to call Mike that. Mike stared down at Erwin, blinking, watching him. His chest moved up and down, breathing, shaky, Erwin was scared. Mike was scared. Mike dropped his head down against Erwin's chest. That scent. It was warm, familiar. It felt something like the sensation of being home after going on a long vacation. That scent wasn't strong, perhaps unrecognizable, but it was so familiar and soft Mike wanted that. Only that.

            Mike dropped his face against Erwin's neck, and bit down. Erwin flinched, and Mike wondered if he would reach up and throw him to the side, or try to strangle him. Erwin did nothing. He pressed into Erwin more, his skin was rough, scars trailed all over his body. Mike leaned in, trying to feel his right arm, the damage that had been created. Mike felt himself wearing thin, these memories, Erwin's memories. He knew nothing of his past. He knew nothing. He didn't know anything about the pain Erwin must've been in. He abandon Erwin. They sent Erwin off to die while Mike slept soundly. Maybe he could change something. Anything. Take them back. Take everything back. To be the same. To be human again.

            To be the person he was twenty years ago.

            Mike struggled to take Erwin's pants off, twisting the belt around, pulling the zipper down. He remembered something like high school, stumbling, messing around, being silly. Those days felt so sweet, nearly innocent, if they were innocent men. Mike gripped against Erwin's underwear, feeling his crotch, Mike nuzzled him, taking a deep breath. He slowly teased Erwin, pulling him out of his underwear. Erwin tensed, his left hand gripping Mike's side.

            "Mikey... cut it out." he mumbled. "Don't... do that..."

            Mike looked up, nuzzling Erwin again. He was warm. He was so warm. Mike felt a shudder wrack his spine, consuming his body. Erwin could feel Mike's hardness against his hip. Mike stumbled, slipping his pants down his hips, freeing his erection. His body trembled. The whole world around him felt cold, except for Erwin. Mike looked to Erwin, watching for a reaction. He remembered in high school, hiding in the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible while rutting against each other like they were in heat. Something like that was playful, youthful, never romantic. It was always lust. Lust and sex and pleasure. That's how it always was between them. And then they would move on, cuddling, sleeping in each other's clothing. That relationship had layers, it was deeper than anything Mike had ever felt before. It was deeply embedded in him. It had never left him. Not twenty years. Not twenty thousand years.

            "I love you..." Mike stumbled out, his hardness pressed firmly to Erwin's. He nipped his neck, kissing the bites sweetly, breathing in the scent of his sweat. He rubbed his palm against himself, and Erwin too. He kept pressed together. Chest to chest, hips to hips, neck to neck. Mike's lips were pressed to Erwin's jaw, kissing to his ear. Messy, disorganise, mostly lust, Mike rutted his hips against Erwin, grinding his palm into it. He kept his other hand on Erwin's shoulder, keeping his balance on top of the man.

            "Mikey..." Erwin mumbled, his face turned to the side, half of his face pressed into the snow. Erwin hesitated. He didn't do a thing. He let Mike do as he pleased. Mike didn't remember anything like this, love between them was sweet, hesitant, blissful. Lust was never the same. Mike moaned, his breathing hitching. He rubbed vigorously, creating a heated, raw friction on their skin. He gripped Erwin's cock, the head flushed deep red, grinding and palming to create more heat.

            "I love you..." Mike repeated, nuzzling Erwin's neck. At his touch, Erwin trembled, his head leaning back. He said nothing, he did nothing. His face flushed red with embarrassment and shame. Mike gave a slow rock of his hips, pleasure shooting up his spine. It felt right. It felt familiar. In the past several months of living Mike finally felt familiar. Still loving Erwin, loving his body, his touch, his words. Mike was deteriorating fast, his muscles were still so weak, so hard to control. His hips dropped, the sinew of his thighs rippled tensely.

            Mike came, silent, frozen, pressing his face into Erwin's chest, a ruined sound escaped his throat, and he collapsed, shudders still wracking his body for a few seconds before he subsided, falling apart on Erwin's lap. His energy was spent, and he smeared his hand against his own pants, trying to clean. His breathing had gotten faster than ever before, his body had become so energetic around Erwin. He had miscalculated his own strength, his body trembled, and he felt exhausted. He had no strength for such an activity, and Mike fell onto Erwin, clutching his shoulder in fear he would leave him. Mike wished to say more, speak more, but his eyes sparkled dizzy with blackness, and he found himself slipping into sleep before anything else was left to be said.

* * *

 

 

Within seconds of awakening, Mike was overcome with grief, huddled in his room, shame clutched his stomach. He didn't think he could ever eat again, ever live again. Staving off his need for sex had driven him crazier than he ever thought. Erwin had the heart to take him inside, cleaned him off, and redressed him. He sat Mike in his bedroom, and stayed in the living room, keeping away from Mike. Mike trembled in his bed, settled against the wall. If he could force himself to die, now would have been a great time. For now he was quiet, petrified, scared to move, scared to breathe. He listened to Erwin walk up and down the staircase, Mike assumed changing his clothing. He threw his own clothing in the trash, Mike had shredded his shirt with the shears. His stomach churned, his muscles clenched. He felt his throat closing up, his heart stopping. Erwin sat down in the living room, sighing softly. Mike could hear some beeping noises, and he  True terror overcame him when he heard what Erwin was doing.

            He was calling Levi.

            "Levi?" Erwin's voice was low, but the house was so quiet Mike could hear a thousand miles away. "Levi... I need you to come home. Now. We need to talk about something. With Mike."

            Mike trembled. He gripped his stomach, and stood up on his weakened legs. He stumbled towards the bathroom, leaning over the toilet. His abdomen convulsed. He vomited, he vomited so hard he cried. Tears were in his eyes, his body shivered, wracking his whole system, as if his body wanted to punish him first before anything else. He felt sick. He was sick. He knew he was sick. He knew very well what he had done. Regret built up in his stomach, and he tried to stand, leaning over the sink. He washed the bile out of his mouth, and fell back to his knees. It hurt so much to move, to do anything, and now he couldn't move an inch without a pain driving deeper into his chest.

            "Mikey...?"

            Oh god. Mike leaned over, covering his face. He couldn't face Erwin. He couldn't. He just couldn't see him again. Mike pressed to the cupboards under the sink, hugging his knees, covering his face. He didn't move. He just wanted to sit there and die. That was what he deserved. He shuddered, trying to hold himself together. Tears were still in his eyes, and he covered his face as best he could.

            A hand pressed to his back.

            "Mikey... look at me. Please."

            Mike shuddered. How could he say such a thing? After what he had done? Mike couldn't speak, he sputtered a pained gasp, turning to the wall. Erwin's hand gingerly came to pull Mike away, but the man refused to budge.

            "Mike, listen to me. I'm taking you to the living room, okay? Look at me, please, I'm not mad at you."

            _How could you not hate me?_ Mike felt a tremor seize his body. He wanted to vomit again, but there was nothing left in his stomach. Erwin slowly brought his hand down against his back, trying to be as gentle as he could be. He kneeled down, sitting right by Mike, petting his shoulder, trying to calm him.

            "Mike you're my friend, I don't hate you. Please, say something. We need to talk."

            Mike choked on the air, a broken sob left his mouth. He couldn't hold back his own tears, his hands trembling to cover his face. His chest ached, and he dropped his head back down against his knees, curling up.

            "I'm sorry-" Mike could barely make sense of his words, his crying was painful, and it caused him to stutter, his face flushing red, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to say he wasn't in his right mind. He was crazy. But Mike knew he wasn't. He knew very well what he had done.

            And he wanted more. He wanted to take Erwin. He wanted to hold him and cherish him and be close to him. Mike didn't know what to say. He just wanted to cry. He couldn't forgive himself. But he knew it was shame, not sorrow. He was sad with fear.

            "I love you." Mike muttered, shying away from Erwin's touch. It was the only thing he could say that wasn't a lie. He loved Erwin. He loved him dearly.

            "I love you too Mike..."

            Mike flinched. Those words. Those words made his heart stop, his stomach ache, his hands tremble. Erwin didn't know the severity of those words. How much it meant to Mike to be loved back. How much he wanted it to mean to Erwin. It tortured Mike to know Erwin had any love at all for him. It ached Mike to know his love for Erwin. Yet those words ran so easy off of Erwin's tongue.

            "Mikey. Please. We need to speak. You aren't right in the head. Calm down and speak to me." Erwin pet Mike's hair behind his ear, trying to see his face, trying to look him in the eye. It was so hard to breath, Mike felt like every single breath should have been the last one. Like he didn't deserve to breathe. He tried to calm himself, but all he could do was mumbled gibberish.

            "Just relax, please..." Erwin had his hands wrapped around Mike, trying to calm the man, let the man speak. "Say something... anything..."

            "I love you.. I do..." Mike finally spoke, covering his face. His voice still trembled, but he could speak some words. "I... I wanted that... I want it back."

            "Mike..." Erwin turned his head. "I love you. I've known you since I was a child. And I thought I lost you forever..." He shook his head for a moment, and looked down at Mike. "Mike, I know that we dated in the past, but I'm married. Mike you know I'm married... I love you. I don't want to lose you again. But what you did wasn't okay. It's not going to help if we try to pretend it didn't happen."

            "I molested you.." Mike's voice was hoarse. He flinched to say such a word. He wanted to enjoy that moment, but in his mind he knew the truth. Erwin laid limp as a ragdoll throughout the ordeal. It made Mike sick to think of how he was acting during the entire moment between them. Only a desire to be young again, to have Erwin back again. A possessive, sensual fantasy. Erwin seemed to hesitate, keeping his hands on Mike's back.

            "Mike, you're probably under a lot of stress right now. I understand that you're going through a lot. I'm here for you Mike. At least tell me what's wrong..." Erwin hesitated at the question, but he decided to ask Mike. "Why did you... do that?"

            "I don't know..." Mike lied. He knew very well why he had done it. Because he was going crazy. This release was the only thing he could do before the stress became nothing but violent attacks. Erwin only stayed close, looking down at the floor in disappointment.

            "We need to talk about this. This isn't healthy... Look. Clearly, I'm not doing a good job in helping you rehabilitate... Maybe being with us isn't a good idea."

            No.

            God no.

            Anything but that.

            Mike pressed back into the wall, huddling his face against his knees. He couldn't leave this house. He had nowhere to go. They wouldn't send him away, would they? Mike couldn't stand it in the house, but being near Erwin made him sane enough to tolerate it. Just something small, being pet to sleep by Erwin, being given his sweater, being close. Erwin was the last thing Mike had left in the world. But Erwin had been taken while he wasn't looking. Married, children, a house, a job... Mike trembled, his face pressed to the wall as he tried to stop himself from crying. It was hitting home. It was really hitting home. Twenty years in a coma. Nothing he did would change the time that had wasted away.

            _"Hello?"_

            Levi's voice echoed down the hallway, into the bedroom. The muffled sounds of him kicking snow off his boots and setting them in the entryway came, as well as the sounds of grocery bags shuffling around. Mike curled up towards the wall. He wanted to vomit again. He felt sick all over.

            "Levi... come." Erwin beckoned the other man to Mike's room, Mike wished he wouldn't. He wished he'd send Levi away, tell him nothing of what Mike had done, but today wasn't in Mike's favour, the past twenty years was not in Mike's favour.

            "What is it?" Levi pulled off his thick coat, draping it on the desk and heading into the bathroom. "Why did you call? What the hell is going on?"

            "... Something happened..." even now Erwin was hesitating. Not telling it as it was. Mike knew he was doing it out of protection. Erwin wanted Mike to be protected. To be understood. Mike knew the ordeal was his fault, and he wasn't sick or crazy, but he just wouldn't admit that. What could Erwin have possibly thought if he knew Mike had done such a thing on purpose? And how he felt no guilt until he realised Erwin was gone?

            "What was it?" Levi hissed. He sounded more ill-tempered by the second.

            "Mike. Say something." Erwin commented, turning to Mike. "This conversation isn't between just me and Levi."

            Mike shook his head. How could he say what he did to Levi? How could he say anything at all? His throat felt like it was closing up on itself, and Mike hoped maybe he'd just suffocate and die. Erwin just gave a sigh, and turned to Levi.

            "I was shovelling snow off the path outside." Erwin explained. "Mike decided to... come outside... and, well..."

            Mike covered his head, he felt like Levi would attack him the more Erwin explained. Levi would wring his throat out, and he had every right to do so. Erwin went through what he had done with little detail, and Mike knew he was covering for him. He was trying to not make it sound so bad. Levi was quiet, his lips pressed in a thin line. Mike trembled at the silence, and finally, Levi spoke.

            "Fine. Leave. Get out."

            "Levi... I.." Mike mumbled.

            "Not you." Levi snapped. He pulled Erwin aside, pointing him to the door. "You leave. I'll talk to him."

            No. Don't leave. Please. Mike felt his voice going, his stomach tightening. He couldn't face Levi alone.

            "Levi. We should talk together. It was just a mistake, he's sick-"

            "I don't fucking care if he's sick. Get out. I want to talk alone." Levi was not in a bargaining positing. Erwin gave an affirmative nod, and stepped back, lingering by the doorway and shutting the door behind him.

            "I'm sorry." Mike spoke, he knew if he kept silent Levi would rip him in half. "I don't know what I was doing."

            "Shut up." Levi snapped. "And turn around."

            Mike turned around, sitting down on the floor, his knees up, hugged to his chest. Levi stared him down, and sat down on the cold tile floor. The bathroom was large, but Mike never felt so constricted in his life. Levi's eyes glowed, glistening in the incandescent lighting. He placed his hand on the wooden cupboard below the sink, where Mike was sitting, and leaned in.

            "What. Happened." Levi hissed, it was not a question, it was an order. "Now you tell me. I don't want Erwin backing you up on every little mistake you made."

            Mike gripped his knees, clutching his legs to his chest. "I... I knew no one was home... I knew I had the chance... so I took advantage of it."

            "So you decided to molest my husband?"

            Mike twitched. That word hurt. Husband. Not molest. Husband. It was the word that hurt the most to hear, and it made him feel even guiltier. Levi gazed him down, waiting for the response. Mike knew he needed to answer.

            "No. I- I don't know what I was thinking." Mike mumbled, leaning against the sink.

            "I'll sit here all fucking day till we figure it out." Levi snapped. "You just jerked off on my fucking husband, I know _what_ you did. Tell me _why_ you did it."

            Why? Mike thought. Because he was my boyfriend. Because I have known him since a child. Because I need him. Because he was there for me. Because I love him. The list can go for days. He grit his teeth. Every excuse flowed through his head, and he bit down. Not a chance in hell he would tell Levi. Not his thoughts. Not his real feelings. Nobody ever understood, no one ever listened to him. Erwin was the only person who he talked to in his old life. Before his coma. And now that he had awoken, even Erwin had no time to spare for him.

            "I don't know... I'm just fucked up in the head I guess." Mike replied calmly. Levi grit his teeth, shaking his head as if Mike gave the wrong answer.

            "If you can tell me you're fucked up in the head, you're not fucked up in the head." Levi snapped. "Listen to me. I know you're having a hard time. I'm trying to be nice. But if I can't trust you to stay in my house, alone with my husband, without you _fucking_ touching him, I don't want you here."

            Mike looked down at his feet. He curled his fingers around his knees, digging his nails until he felt a dull pain going through his jeans. Levi wanted him out. He had seen it coming. He knew that it would happen. He wanted to risk that. And the payoff wasn't worth it at all.

            "I'm sorry..." Mike felt rushed with grief, another realisation going to him. Where would he go? Where would he live? He wanted to stay, seeing Erwin every day was enough to bring him peace. He exhaled a shudder, clutching his stomach. His parents were dead, his family had left no contact. Mike had been an only child. And Levi knew that. Mike was completely at the man's will, and he realised it. It terrified him.

            "I love him..." Mike mumbled. Perhaps the truth would help. "I thought he loved me back... I just... I don't want to let him go... Why did he leave me?" Mike felt an ache in his stomach. He never wanted to believe it, but he knew it must've been the truth. Erwin no longer loved him. Erwin just pitied him. Tears rushed down Mike's face before he could even realise he was crying.

            "I... I won't do it again I swear..." he mumbled, his tears drowning his voice in sadness.

            "Don't make a promise you don't intend on keeping." Levi barked. Mike tensed up, trying to wipe his tears away. Levi could read him like a book, and it scared him. Mike wanted to speak, wanted to ask for forgiveness. But Levi would never buy into it, Mike knew Levi wasn't a fool. In a second, Levi's hand came over his head. He flinched, feeling he was about to get hit, but instead the force came against the wall. The wall shuddered from the force of Levi's hand.

            "You don't realise how much you should hate me, do you?" Levi hissed, leaning over Mike, his hands on his shoulders. "Erwin worshipped you, begged you to have mercy on him, to forgive him, like you were some sort of dead God... He grieved for you, he ached for you... He wasted away in front of you. And everyone allowed him to. So I was the one that pulled him away. I was the one that made him move on. He didn't move on by himself. He's weak, we're all weak. I forced him away from you. And he agonized and cried. He even cried the day after we got married. Came to the hospital and asked you to forgive him again. So don't make a fucking excuse. Erwin made all the fucking excuses in the book for you, and now that you're awake, he's fucking doing it again!" Levi slammed his hand against the cupboard, twisting back away from Mike. He hissed out a breath, growling in irritation.

            "Erwin loved you... he still loves you. He couldn't stop loving you. It's me you ought to hate. Because you know what? You don't know how much I hate you."

            Levi's lips pressed together in a thin line, and he leaned in, scowling. "You don't know how many times I wanted to kill you. But you were in a hospital. So closely monitored. I could strangle you, or suffocate you. You were so helpless. You didn't move a muscle, yet some-fucking-how, you made Erwin nearly lose his goddamn mind. If you just _died_ I knew Erwin would get over it. He would move on. But no. You didn't die. You certainly didn't live though. You just stayed there. Erwin used to say if you died he'd kill himself. He meant it. So god fucking help me, don't take this out on him. Erwin was a saint to you. I was the devil. I wanted to see you die. Anything to let Erwin know it was over. You really never understood, did you? I'm the worst person in the world..." Levi's head dropped down, close to Mike's face. He felt like Levi would lunge, sink his teeth into his neck and tear his throat out. He felt true terror looking in Levi's eyes.

            "I would gladly kill you for my fabricated happiness... Because now I know what real happiness is..." Levi hissed. "And I hate that... You made Erwin wait twenty years to be happy again... But you made him happy... And I can't kill you. You've been tortured enough. I won't kick you out of my house. But you aren't getting off easy. I want you to take this to heart. I'm being a fucking saint right now. Because you have _nothing_ , nowhere to go, nobody to love you. That's the goddamn truth. Live with it."

            Levi rose back to his feet, staring down at Mike, leaning back against the wall of the shower. "Now listen. I'm gonna have to make some fucking rules to keep this house in order. You don't fucking touch my husband again. Unless Erwin approaches you, you don't speak to him. You don't leave your goddamn room. You do your physical therapy in this room. If you need help, you ask me. And one last thing, that I will make sure happens. Armin likes to talk to you, says you treat him like an adult. I don't give a shit. Don't you fucking touch my kids. Any of them."

            Mike stared at him with shock. He couldn't believe the notion in Levi's words.

            "I would never hurt your children." He spoke, his hands trembling. "I swear to God I'd never hurt them-"

            "I don't give a shit what you say. I don't trust you. I've heard lies all the fucking time. I lived in a house full of liars until I joined the military. That was the only way I could escape from those fuckers. I've been having a good life, I used to know you, but I don't know you now. Any part of me that trust you is gone now. You don't come close to Armin, I don't care if he's your friend. Don't fucking touch them. Don't come out of your room unless you're dying. That's the fucking rules now. Forget them, I'll remind you. Break them, you're gone." Levi stepped back, swinging the door open to go outside. "I'm giving you a chance Mike, don't fuck it up." and Levi shut the door on him, deciding there was nothing left to be said.

* * *

 

            Mike never left his room.

            Mike never spoke to anyone.

            Mike never looked anyone in the eye.

            If anything important was to be announced, Levi would tell him when dinner showed up. Snow fell, the room was cold, the radiator was never very warm. Mike didn't complain. He didn't say a thing. Christmas was coming soon, Eren and Mikasa often talking about what they wanted to get, and Levi taking silent notes. Armin spoke less, he seemed unhappy. Ever so often Armin would stay in the living room, wondering for Mike's sake, but he never approached. Levi had told him Mike was sick, but he seemed to have an idea that something else had happened. Armin was a quiet child, but now he seemed even more secluded. Erwin would often come to tell Mike goodnight to go to sleep, but he no longer touched him, no longer looked him in the eyes.

            No one came to wake Mike. There was no clock in his room, and he never knew what time it was. He didn't know how the time passed, just that there was something like days. He often slept in, exercising as much as he had to. Rene called once a week. Levi always answered, said Mike was fine, and hung up. Mike never got a word it, but he would sit in the bathroom and listen to the calls. The bathroom was near the kitchen, and he could hear through the walls some of the people that inhabited. Sometimes he could hear Rene's voice on the phone, but only muffled tones. Sometimes he could hear Eren trying to cheer up Armin. Sometimes he could hear Erwin and Levi talking about dinner. These were all privileges. To hear, to speak, to see, to taste, to smell. That was a privilege.

            Mike figured a coma would be better than this.

            Mike knew a coma would be better.

            Perhaps even a permanent one.

            Erwin and Levi had talked to the doctor about Mike having a mental problem, as to some side effect of the coma. They never spoke about the molestation, they only said Mike seemed sick. The doctor decided that Mike was depressed, and felt out of touch with society. The best was to just let Mike be, he would get over it eventually. He said there was no real reason for Mike to be acting the way he was. He was probably just throwing tantrums in need for attention. Mike was choosing to be depressed. On the doctor's orders, Erwin and Levi had locked up the kitchen drawers. Any knife drawers, any scissors, even the butter knives had been put under lock and key. Levi was nice enough to buy an electric razor that was easy on the skin. It claimed it could shave without ever cutting the skin, but after a few attempts to his wrist Mike had produced a few scratches.

            Mike wasn't a fool. He knew to look for places, and he finally remembered the pair of shears Erwin used to snip the trees of dead branches. Nice and sharp. It ripped right through Erwin's shirt. It would do a good job on skin.

            At this point there was no option on it. Levi had said so himself, hadn't he? Levi confessed wanting Mike to die. Mike could give him what he wanted. Erwin had been so torn up over Mike for twenty years, Levi said Mike dying would be a release. Erwin could finally hit rock bottom, grieve, and get over it. That would be easier on him. Easier than making him get torn between Mike and Levi. Armin had practically received second-hand depression from him. Maybe killing himself off wouldn't make the situation happier, but they could certainly move on from Mike's trivial life. Mike had become a fetter, only weighing them down. Levi had told him such. This would be a release. The only thing Mike could give back to the world.

            It was night time. Kids tucked away in bed, Levi and Erwin had kissed them goodnight, and were retiring on their own to bed. It was a Thursday. Dinner had been beef stew and bread. The kids had planned to buy a cake for Levi, Mike heard them planning when he sat in the bathroom again. Levi's birthday was on Christmas. The date was coming up soon. Mike stepped through the kitchen, double checking the locks. Still secured tightly. He walked around the house, hearing only the squeak of floorboards under his feet. Maybe once he was gone the family could move back to that big house Armin spoke about. Out in the city.

            Snow rushed to greet Mike as he stepped outside. His feet fell into the snow, Erwin would often clear the pathway, but today he had not. Mike looked around the backyard. Moonlight melted on the snow, glowing a iridescent milk white. The dead trees stood tall, branches twisting up to the sky as if to beckon the sun to return. The sky was indigo, the moon was bright enough to fade the light of the stars. Mike looked around, wind sweeping up, catching on his shirt. His body felt numb. He started to think. The shears could be in the shed, but maybe in the porcelain sink on the side of the house, where the flower garden once was. He stepped around, leaving a trail of footprints in the snow. Shadows forming from the moonlight, and he went as quietly as he could. It felt like the whole earth was quiet in that moment.

            There, near the dead flowerbed was the shears, propped up by the sink, as well as a few other shovels and gardening equipment. Mike bent down, picking up the shears, and pushing the blades apart. It had a distinct ringing noise, like a dagger or a sword being removed from a sheath. The silver gleamed, it had bits of rust and dirt still stuck in its blade. Mike cleaned it with his sleeve. Mike was still weak in his upper body, but the shears had weight, and were still sharp enough to sink into the skin of Mike's forearm with little resistance.

            It didn't hurt.

            Of course, nothing could hurt Mike anymore.

            Pain has its limitations before nothing is felt at all.

            The bright red line trailed from his elbow to his wrist. It was a clean line, very straight and orderly. Red liquid poured out down his arm and over his hand. He had no control over it as he switched to cut the other arm. The sticky red mess began to make his hand's slip, it was a little bit harder to cut his right forearm since his left hand was so much weaker. Another red line, spilling over his skin, colouring it a rosy pink. The blood splashed to his shirt, down his hands and to the fresh fallen snow. Mike gazed down, dropping the shears. His forearms dropped to his side, red liquid pooling in the snow at his feet. The mixture was something of a red slush, and Mike continued to gaze at it, until his vision got blurry. He leaned back against the house, hearing a creak in the old wood...

            No, he couldn't stay near the house. Of course death was coming, but the kids were so nearby. Mike didn't want the children to see a dead body crumpled up in the garden. He could hide, like a cat, find some place to be secluded, and die there. The children didn't go in the backyard in the morning, but Mike didn't want to take the chance. It would be traumatising to a child to see such a thing.

            He stumbled forward, realising his legs had gone numb up to his calves. He fell to his knees in the snow. Mike sighed, falling flat on his chest, he didn't want to throw his arms out to protect himself. He pushed down on the ground, his vision fading into a blur of greyish black. He crawled a bit, blood spilling all over the fresh icy powder. Mike struggled to get up, his whole body felt numb, and his face felt numb. White vapour drifted from his mouth into the freezing night air. Behind the shed. That would be good enough. Eren, Mikasa and Armin wouldn't have to see.

            Mike stumbled to the shed, every inch became harder to walk, to move, to see. His breath was slow, drifting vapour in the winter air. He reached out, trying to get behind the shed, but he collapsed into the snow. He was near the corner, but his legs had given up. He crawled on his hands, dragging his upper half behind the shed, smearing blood along the walls of it. He curled his legs in, red snow glistening in his trails. He laid on his left side, legs curled up to his chest, blood-soaked arms wrapped around them. The vision of white and red snow faded from his eyes, and soon enough, the sound of wind began to die in his ears. The sensation of cold began to fade.

            There was a strong gale of wind, twisting the falling snow, forming senseless shapes in the air, the glittering white snow began to pile atop the old, covering tracks of red snow. The shed rattled, the windows shuddered. The wind swirled endless mirages within the snow, and drifted away into nothing.

            And then it was silent.


	3. Rebirth

There was a clearing in the forest, where the snow had fallen in a circular field. Evergreen trees stood around, blanketed in white snow, as if it were a ceremonial veil. The trees huddled close, as if to peer into the strange little clearing. Sitting in the clearing, was a smooth wooden box, a rectangular shape, just big enough to fit a large man.

            A coffin.

            Snow had not gathered on it, the coffin had been placed in the field only recently. A figure dressed in black held an umbrella in one hand, a plate resting a solitary candle in the other. The figure leaned over the coffin, gazing into it.

            It was night-time. There was not a sound in the forest, even the wind had kept it's peace. Still, the strong moonlight reflected so clearly off the snow, giving an angelic midday glow. The trees casted shadows across the ground.  The figure dressed in black leaned over the wooden coffin, a black umbrella in one hand, holding the candle close. The small orange flame flickered as the cold encompassed the area. Other than the moonlight, the candle was the only light in the area.

            "As your funeral director, I bid you to sleep." the now named funeral director whispered, the voice was calm and powerful. The director set the umbrella in the snow. Holding the candle with two hands, their eyes glowed in the orange flame, whispered silently to the coffin. Inside, now looking in, was a man, laying inside. He was tall, but his body had become skinny with neglect. Large marks travelled up his wrist to his elbow. Cuts on his arms. His hair had been combed out neatly, framing his eyes. His blond hair looked black in the darkness, and it was hard to see his eyes. His face had graven features marked into it. He looked like a young face, forced to become old by time's cruel schedule.

            The man in the box was wrapped in burial clothing, an old gown of white cloth, and draped in a heavy blanket, resting just below his chest. The funeral director set the candle down, at the base of the coffin, and stepped to the side, hands free of any items. Pressing their palms together, a small speech was said to no one in particular.

            "Waking up and living every day can be difficult. The group has always been more important than the individual, huh? It's so hard to survive when you do not belong, when you do not fit in. In death there is not always despair. Sometimes there is peace. We all will break away from these vessels. These vessels called bodies. It is okay to look for peace outside of our skin. Outside of this world. Everyone has suppressed darkness inside them. We do not wish to think about it, but in death, we are forced to face them."

            Another figure appeared at the other end of the box. Dressed in black, their face covered, and a hat hiding any distinguishing features.

            "The angel of death has come to claim you." the director whispered. "We will tie your limbs in the ceremonial sash, and send you away." these methods seemed different from a normal funeral. A strange take held on these two who gazed at the man in the coffin. Death was not mourned by these people. In fact these people seemed to believe that death was peaceful for whoever lay in the coffin. Perhaps in a strange religious cult the man once belonged to, but it didn't seem to be the case. It seemed very personal, very calm. The figure addressed as the angel of death leaned in, binding the man's hands very loosely with a white sash. The figure trailed through the snow, standing the man's feet, binding those limbs as well. He recovered the body with the blanket.

            "Such as the tide rises and falls in the ocean. You ebb into the flow of our universal woes. Departing from this world... And to the next one." The two figures began to slide the cover over the coffin, pressing the wooden nails down firmly in their places. The funeral director walked over to the end of the coffin, and kneeled in the snow. Picking up the candle, the director took in a small breath, and blew out the small flame. Grey smoke rushed into the air, embers on the tip of the wick flickered and faded. Twisting around in a slow formless dance, the smoke rushed into the winter air, and disappeared into the night.

            "Death has come. Rest in peace. Mike Zacharias."

* * *

 

Ten days before this funeral, on a very different field, in a different fall of snow, Mike Zacharias laid in small barren garden. Blood pooled around his body, numbness taking hold. In this field, he was alone. No funeral directors, no angels of death came to see him. Snow twisted through the air, piling against his body, covering him like a blanket. Mike found himself to be truly alone.

            Or so he had thought.

            Armin shifted away from his windowsill, careful to step over the creaking wood, in fear of waking Eren from his sleep. He felt a shiver wrack his spine, his hands folded over his arms as he wrapped himself up in a dressing gown. He shuffled from his room, shutting the door to the bedroom, and followed around the house, pressing to the window in the hallway. He rubbed the frost away with his pale hands, and threw up the glass pane. A rush of cold air hit his face. He looked out to the garden, peering for something out of place. Down from the second story windows. He stumbled back, dashing down the hall, and pushed open the last door in the hall.

            "Mom. Mom? Wake up." Armin called out.

            Levi blinked his tired eyes open, twisting around in his bed sheets. He sat upright, feeling a sensation of touch, a voice calling out to them. A pain poked at his side, and he lifted his head. The short blond boy with bright blue eyes stood at his bed. Moonlight etching a graven look into his young face.

            "Armin... what- what is it?" Levi lifted his head, checking the time on the alarm clock. "Armin, it's three in the morning. Are you okay?"

            "I think Mike's in the garden." Armin replied.

            "What?"

            "Mike is in the garden."

            "Wh... what? How do you know he's in the garden? I told him not to leave his room..." Levi felt himself slowly awakening from his sleep. He pulled his feet off the bed, darting his hands against the side of the nightstand, feeling for his rubber boots.

            "There's blood outside."

            "What?" Levi sat upright, staring Armin down. "What do you mean?"

            "I heard some noises downstairs, but I was afraid to go check. I waited for the noises to stop, but I thought I heard some noises by the shed, so I looked out the window. There's blood in the snow. I think Mike is there..." Armin pointed out the window near Levi's bed. Levi stood from his bed, pulling open the curtains. Out towards the backyard, where the garden had been before winter had taken it away, a red trail of blood was spattered in the snow, threatened to be covered by the snow that had begun to fall.

            "Shit!" Levi shot back from the window, snatching his jacket from the vanity and slipping it on. "Erwin! Wake up!- Armin, wake your father up." Levi forgot his boots, his feet stomping down the stairs, the wood shuddering under his speed. His eyes darted around the darkness of the house. He took to the hallway, noticing Mike's bedroom door was open, his bed empty.

            "Damn it..." Levi cursed and walked to the sliding glass door, stumbling out into the snow. The glow of moonlight was bright, lighting up the area. Levi raced over to the garden, looking to the trail of blood going to the shed. He followed quickly, dropping to his knees in the bloodied snow as he found a body. Mike's body.

            "Fuck, fuck!" he snapped. Levi leaned over, pressing his ear against to Mike's jaw. His skin was freezing, he was covered in new fallen snow. Blood smeared thickly over his forearms. His skin was nearly as pale as the snow he laid in. Levi tried to detect some warmth, some sort of breathing. There was something, a sort of exhale, even Mike's breath didn't feel very warm. His whole body was limp, his chest fell, but rarely rose for breath.

            "Damn it, he's barely breathing..." Levi spoke aloud, as if someone was close to him. Levi cursed his own stature, wishing he was taller, wishing he had more weight. Levi placed his hand under Mike's back, and under his knees, and lifted. The man was weak, his muscles non-existent. He had barely been eating, and yet even then Levi struggled to lift such a tall man into his arms. He stumbled forward in the snow, not daring to drop Mike, and pushed his knees into Mike, trying to hold him up on his own.

            "Mom- do you need help?" Armin stood by the sliding glass door, his hands timidly placed on the door.

            "Just- get out of the way Armin." he snapped. "I don't know how, but he hurt himself, just go back to your room."

            "I can help." Armin said. "I know how to treat blood loss-"

            "Armin! Go upstairs!" Levi snapped. Armin flinched. His breathing was ragged, it was impossible to carry Mike, and he stumbled up over the incline into the kitchen, trying to place the man on the table. Mike was limp, his face was almost greyish. Levi, wiped the blood of his hands, looking to Armin. "Look, you're smart, I love you- but just go for now Armin."

            "Mom I can help-"

            "Armin, I know how to do this! Just do as I say, please." Levi growled, and turned back to Mike. He pulled his shirt off, fumbling over his limp arms, trying to make sense of if there was any more injuries. No, only the veins of his arm had been severed. Blood was everywhere, flowing from him still, Mike had gotten a good amount of blood on Levi. He ran to the kitchen drawers, unlocking them quickly, smearing blood on the cupboards and looking for rags to wrap Mike's arms in. He grabbed a few, darting back through the kitchen to Mike and began to wrap the rags around the man's forearms, as well as his upper arm, close to his shoulders. He needed to stop anymore blood from flowing.

            Armin did not listen to Levi. He stood in the kitchen, hands clasping the wireless phone. He was speaking to the dispatcher on the phone, he was calm, giving the address, explaining someone was dying, an ambulance was needed, blood transfusions would be necessary. Hypothermia treatment might have been needed too. Levi was torn between telling Armin to stop disobeying, and feeling proud his son had kept a level head, as Armin always did. Levi had completely forgotten the need to call the hospital.

            "Levi, what the hell is going on?" Erwin seemed to still be tired, but he was awake, he had put on his dressing gown, and dashed to the kitchen, noticing Mike on the table.

            "Mike hurt himself, I don't know how... He's freezing, go put on the bath, run some hot water. If he doesn't die from bleeding he's going to die from the cold. And grab some icepacks to keep on his arms. I need him warm, but I need ice on this so no more blood to come out." Erwin took in the information with as much seriousness as he could. Shock was etched into him, and he ran to the bathroom in Mike's room, plugging the drain and allowing the hot water to flow from the pipes. He returned to grab some ice packs from the freezer for Levi. Erwin watched in dread as Levi tilted Mike's head back, listening for his breath. Levi began to push on Mike's chest, his eyes narrow with focus.

            "Damn it. He was breathing a second ago!" Levi snapped, and he tilted Mike's chin back, pressing his lips down, pinching his nose and breathing hard into the man's mouth. He lifted his mouth, looking to Erwin. "I need to warm him up, but the warmer he gets, the more blood will come out of the wound. Get the first aid kit-" Levi leaned down to push the air from Mike's chest, and repeated the CPR, breathing into him again, coaxing him to breathe.

            "You get it, I'll do the CPR." Erwin explained, having a feeling it would be easier for him. Levi nodded, and stepped back, running to the laundry room where the first aid kit had been left. Erwin took over, leaning in to breath into Mike's mouth. He pressed on his chest, trying to let the air rush out, trying to stimulate a sort of breath. Erwin tried a few more times to pump breath into Mike, and he leaned in, tilting his chin back to hear Mike. A small noise like a sigh emitted from his mouth and nose.

            "I think he breathed..." Erwin muttered, continuing to pump air into the man as Levi approached with the first aid kit.

            "All right-" Levi set the kit down, pulling out a large bandage wrap and alcohol, he pulled the rags off the wound, the blood hadn't stopped. He poured alcohol onto the wound, looking for anti-bacterial cream and smearing it on the cuts before wrapping the bandage as best as he could. Mike twitched, his reaction seemed to be a pained one.

            "Mike!" Levi snapped. "Can you hear me?"

            Mike said nothing, however a shaky breath bubbled at his lips.

            "Mike stay with me goddamn it." Levi hissed. He was quick to move to Mike's other arm, pouring the alcohol and twisting another bandage around his arms. Mike was giving twitches as responses, possibly still feeling pain of alcohol burning on his open wounds.

            "You shouldn't put him in the bath. It's better to have dry warmth right? You should be putting blankets on him." Armin spoke, staying a good distance away, holding the phone to his chest.

            "I know Armin, but he needs to warm up as fast as possible." Levi hissed. "Erwin go check to make sure the water isn't too hot." Erwin did as he was told, returning to the bathroom and stopping the water, feeling for the temperature. It wasn't too hot since the hot water took time to flow in. He returned, helping Levi pull Mike off of the table and take him to the bathroom. They set him down against the counter, removing his clothing, wet with blood and melted snow, and set him in the tub, keeping his arms out of the water, ice packs pressed to the bandages.

            "Mike, are you still up?" Levi asked, hoping for a response. Mike didn't respond, but his chest still rose and fell on its own. He could breathe. Levi submerged him in the bath with Erwin's help, water rushing out of the tub and over the floor. "Check his body for anymore wounds." Levi ordered as he turned to grab towels from the small cabinet inside the bathroom. He threw them to the ground, trying to soak up the water before it ruined the floors, or made one of them slip.

            "What's going on?" Eren's sleep-filled voice appeared, standing around in Mike's room, hugging to Mikasa, who had also awoken from the commotion.

            "Eren, Mikasa, go back upstairs." Levi hissed.

            "Is that Mister-"

            "Eren! Mikasa! Do as I say. You too Armin." Levi snapped. The children tensed up, flinching and nodding to their mother, running back up the staircase. Armin hesitated, looking around.

            "The ambulance is going to take at least forty minutes... Please, you have to keep him warm and dry... I don't think the bath is the best alternati-"

            "Armin the heater is down here is broken, we can only do it this way." Levi hissed. "Just go upstairs."

            "You know I can help. Please-"

            "Armin!-"

            "Mom-"

            "Stop it! Both of you." Erwin's tone made the two freeze. He sounded angry, almost panicked, uncharacteristic of Erwin's more common personality. He never lost his composure. But now, huddled over Mike trying to keep the man's arms elevated, he looked like he was in near tears. Armin tensed up. He had never seen his father cry, though Armin knew he had the capacity. All people had the capacity. It just didn't seem like Erwin would ever cry. It was almost impossible. Erwin would never cry in front of someone. Not someone who knew him.

            Mike was still pale as a sheet. He began to twitch and move, his shoulders shifting.  Erwin was pressed to the tub, keeping Mike's body submerged in the warm water. Mike looked pained, and Erwin held him close, keeping his head above the water, balancing Mike's bleeding forearms up on his right arm, at least, what was left of it.

            "Armin... listen to your mother." Erwin hissed. "And Levi... please get me the prosthetic." Erwin felt a bit awkward without the bionic hand to help him out. His right arm had been severed from a few inches above the wrist, but his elbow was still intact.  Erwin kept his left hand under Mike's chin, holding him above. The two listened to their orders, Armin still clutching the phone and Levi returning to his bedroom to fetch Erwin his prosthetic arm. Erwin looked incredibly distressed, his eyes wandering Mike, hoping to understand what had happened.

            "These weren't done with a knife, were they?" Erwin mumbled. "The cuts are too big. All the drawers are locked up anyway."

            Levi pondered where the blood had been all over the snow filled garden. Some of the equipment had been covered in blood, and he realised so had a pair of shears that had been left open in the snow.

            "Damn it. He used the shears outside. He must've found them." Levi hissed, looking around. Mike still wasn't stirring, but breathing on his own. He was unconscious, his muscles moving under his skin, tensing and trembling. Erwin slipped on the metal glove-like hand, and tightened the straps on his arm. He used it to help prop Mike up, keeping the ice pack on his arm to stop the bleeding.

            "I left those shears outside... Mikey... goddamn it." Erwin whispered under his breath. "I keep killing you on accident..." he was talking to himself, and Levi wanted to correct Erwin. The car accident had always been on Erwin's shoulders, now this too? Erwin didn't shove the shears into Mike's arms. Mike did that himself. Levi wanted to explain such a thing to Erwin, but he had a feeling it would not help the situation.

            "Mike... please don't die..." Erwin mumbled, he seemed to be talking to himself. "I just wanted you to stay alive a little bit longer... I know I've been selfish, please forgive me for that... I just... I..." Levi kept his gaze at his feet, listening to Erwin's words.

            "I do love you. I always loved you. Please don't think I forgot that." Erwin whispered, hoping to rose Mike from his unconsciousness, hoping to bring him back, hoping he could still hold his friend, his old lover, his companion. He kept his body pressed to the tub, holding Mike up, waiting for signs of life. Blood seeped through the bandages on Mike's arms. Erwin remembered something similar, something like the car crash. Pumping Mike's chest to keep him breathing, covered in blood and snow. Agony. Fear. Erwin couldn't forgive himself if he killed his best friend. Erwin had been the only one to keep hope in Mike returning to live again. Erwin had been the only one left waiting for Mike to return, and now, even after all the time passed, Erwin refused to lose hope.

* * *

 

            Mike lost four pints of blood.

            Four pints would kill an average man, but for him, due to his stature, he had retained a bit more blood in his larger body. An average man would have been dead by the time he was found. Armin had been correct, as the paramedics would say, dry heat, like blankets and heating would have been preferred, but Levi had made the right decision to warm Mike as soon as possible. Erwin carried Mike to the ambulance when it arrived, he sat across from Mike, watching the paramedics try to warm and resuscitate Mike back to consciousness. Covered in blood, a pale look on Mike's face, unconscious. Erwin was reminded of the terrifying paramedic ride twenty years ago- the one that would guarantee Mike's inevitable coma.

            Erwin wished to deal with the situation alone. Levi refused, going in a car with the children who had also refused to leave. Erwin watched the doctors stitching Mike together, trying to keep him breathing as Mike was not doing a good job. He breathed only a few times every minute. The doctors rushed a blood test to find out what blood type Mike was, but Erwin knew, he always knew, it was the same as Erwin, his own blood type. They had learned it when they joined the military, it was stamped on his dog tag-

            Erwin produced Mike's dog tags from his pocket, it had always been in his wallet, though Erwin was no sure where his own dog tags were. The doctors checked over it, returning taking the information to bring the correct blood packets to put back into Mike. For a moment Erwin felt a flood of relief wash over him. For over twenty years he had never let go of those dog tags, and now he was glad he did. Soon enough there was no more he could do, and the doctors took him to the waiting room, where Levi, Mikasa, Eren and Armin had already been sitting.

            "What's going on?" Armin asked. "Did he make it?"

            "Yes... He's fine now." Erwin replied, his composure returned, calm and reserved. "They stitched his arms up."

            "What happened?" Eren looked confused, turning to Erwin. "Did he get hurt?"

            "Yes." Armin responded for Erwin. "Mike got hurt. Mike had been hurt for a very long time."

            "Really? Why didn't it show up until now? I thought he was just fine last night." Eren replied, looking confused.

            Armin pursed his lips, looking to Erwin and Levi. He turned back to Eren, blinking his blue eyes, trying to think of what to say. "Eren... could you go down to the gift store and buy Mike some flowers?" Armin asked. "And maybe some bottled water. The store is on the first floor."

            "But it's four in the morning, no way the store is open-"

            "Eren." Mikasa grabbed the boy's arm. "Listen to Armin. I'll go with you."

            "But the store isn't open-!"

            "We're going." Mikasa snapped.

            "Is nobody listening to me?" Eren hissed, looking around the room.

            Mikasa picked Eren up by the arm, her fingers tight around his arm. She dragged him out of the room, leaving Armin, Levi, and Erwin behind. Mikasa gave a nod of her head to Armin, and shut the door of the waiting room. Armin turned back to Levi and Erwin, eyes glowing in near anger, tears forming.

            "Armin... what was that about?" Levi asked.

            "I need to talk to you two. But I don't want them to hear because I don't think they'd understand- I mean, they would, but they don't need to hear it." Armin stuttered out.

            "What are you talking about?" Levi asked.

            "Just sit down, please." Armin muttered, waiting for Levi and Erwin to uncomfortably find their way to a chair. Armin stood in front of them, the two hesitated, feeling like they were about to get scolded. "I know Mike tried to kill himself... and... I don't want to get angry. But you've been so unfair to him, what did you think was going to happen? How could you think he wouldn't try to kill himself?"

            Erwin and Levi froze in their spot. They had known that they were harsh on Mike. They had to be, the doctors had even said so. Mike needed to be disciplined in a way that would make him understand what was right and wrong. They had no idea if they had gone overboard, but clearly they knew now that they had been harsh. Mike's actions spoke loud enough to them. To be told off by a child, their own son, the two felt a deeper sense of shame.

            "Armin, you don't know what Mike did."Levi huffed. "It makes the entire situation different if you understood."

            "I know what he did." Armin hissed. "He..." Armin brought his hands together, curling back a bit. He hesitated his words, and looked to the ground. "He touched dad- Erwin... inappropriately."

            Levi physically twitched. "How do you know that?" He barked. "Did Mike tell you?"

            "Mike didn't speak to any of us since it happened. Of course he didn't tell me!" Armin immediately diffused. "I could tell when you told us to back off of him, and you've been keeping him in his room. I thought maybe something happened to him, but he clearly wasn't ill. I could tell he wasn't sick like you told us. Not with a fever anyway, he was depressed. Something had to have happened to one of you... I knew it wasn't mom, I mean- Levi, because you were the one retaliating at Mike. He had to have done something to Erwin, so I tried to figure it out. The day it happened when I came home I looked around and I found the shirt in the trash... It had... semen- seminal fluid on it. I'm not an idiot, please don't treat me like one." Armin spoke maturely as possible, trying to be more medically correct about the terms he used, he looked to his parents for confirmation.

            "Armin..." Levi hissed. Erwin looked down uncomfortably at himself. "Armin, I couldn't take it lightly. The doctor even ordered me to keep you away, keep Mike away from people he could hurt."

            "That doctor said he was choosing to be depressed too! He said that Mike was just throwing a tantrum!- It was only a matter of time before Mike did this. Every single little thing would be a trigger if you locked up every knife in the house. You may as well have just told him that you knew he was going to try kill himself.-"

            "Armin! Listen to me." Levi cut him off. "Mike isn't right in the head. We shouldn't have taken him in. I was trying to be nice. He has nowhere to go. What he did that day was inexcusable. He-"

            "You keep saying he isn't in his right mind! Then why do you keep blaming him!? He's so confused right now. Did you ever actually consider that? That maybe  his depression isn't something he's choosing? That killing himself felt better than living the way y-"

            "Armin, you're too young to understand-"

            "I'm talking goddamn it!" Armin screeched, tears falling from his eyes. "P-Please, stop interrupting me... Just listen to me for once. I'm not too young. I know what happened, stop treating me like this!" His hands trembled, and he brought his arms inward, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt like he would be hit for what he just said, but Levi only stared at him blankly, he looked shocked. Erwin had the same expression. Levi leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms.

            "I'm sorry." Levi spoke. "Please, tell me what you're trying to say."

            Armin hesitated, a shaky breath leaving his mouth. He had never spoken out in such a tone, nor had he cussed at his own parents. He felt fear for being disobedient to them, but he knew he needed to speak. It was all he wanted to do in the first place. He swallowed hard, looking down at his feet. "I... I know Mike did something bad, it wasn't right, but he's confused right now. He still remembers Erwin is his boyfriend, he still remembers you were his friend, Levi... he doesn't know how to feel. He just doesn't believe it, he thinks it's a fantasy. The past twenty years have been only a dream to him. You have to fill him in. Even if it hurts him, even if there's so much that had happened that he can't take it. You have to give that to him. How was he supposed to understand if you don't just sit down and talk to him?" Armin rubbed his face, trying to stop his tears from flowing.

            "I've been trying my best to help him figure out what happened... I promised I wouldn't tell him  that I knew what you hid from us. Why we moved to that house we live in now. Because you decided to pay off the expenses of taking care of a coma patient when Mike's parents died. The price was impossibly high... I know you tried to hide it from me and Mikasa and Eren. I promised Mike I wouldn't say that I knew... but I can't take it anymore. That was only a small part of time that he got back to himself. I have no idea what has been going on for the past twenty years, I haven't even been living that long. Please, just talk to him... He needs to understand..." Armin cleared his throat, his voice was broken up, and he tried his best to clear it so he could speak better. He rubbed his eyes, his face flushing red with tears. As he looked up he found Levi wrapping his arms around him tight, pulling him close.

            "Sweetie." Levi rarely every said pet names, the last time Armin had ever heard him say 'sweetie' was when he had gotten out of knee surgery. "You don't have to shoulder any weight because you know Mike is hurting. That isn't your weight bare. This was our fault. You know that. You did nothing wrong. We're the people to blame for Mike ending up here again. Do you understand that?"

            Armin nodded, pressing to Levi's chest he let out a choked sob, trying to wipe his tears away, trying to be more mature, trying to be an adult. Adults didn't sob when they spoke. They didn't speak with fear. They spoke proudly. Armin wanted to keep his speech up, but he stuttered to say anymore. Instead, Levi pulled out a hand towel he kept in his pocket, and pressed it to Armin's face, drying it.

            "Shh. We're right here. When Mike wakes up we're going to talk with him. You were right. We made a mistake. You shouldn't have tried to fix our mistake. Because we fucked Mike up really bad." Levi explained, looking to Armin, smoothing his blond hair back. He brushed his hair behind his ear, allowing him to see the boy's sky blue eyes. "You did your best to fix what we did, but there's still a lot you don't know yet Armin. You cannot shoulder any of this, though you did your best...You are a very smart child."

            "I'm not a child. I'm twelve, I'm almost a teenager." Armin huffed.

            "Oh shush." Levi hissed, and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. "You're going to be _my_ child no matter how old you are." Armin pressed close to Levi, and the man scooped him up into his lap, hugging him close to his chest. Armin stuttered to stop his tears, covering his face, pressing to his mother's side.

            "Just relax... we all need to have some time to relax..." Levi spoke, combing his fingers through Armin's hair. The waiting room door jiggled a bit, and opened. Mikasa and Eren walked in, the two looked a little pale from running around.

            "Where's the flowers?" Armin asked, keeping pressed to Levi's chest.

            "I told you! The stores are closed! It's four in the morning!" Eren snapped. "We walked all the way down there for nothing!"

            "It's okay." Erwin replied. "Mike only likes lavender anyway. I doubt they have any lavender flowers in the stores. He's not much of a flower person."

            "Ugh!" Eren threw his hands in the air angrily. He laid down face first on the carpet floor of the waiting room, arms spread out on the rug. He gave a long winded sigh, still out of breath from running up and down the stairs. "I don't understand adults!" he whined into the rug, covering the back of his head.

            "And I hope you never will." countered Levi, gingerly bringing Armin close to his chest. Eren was too tired to ask Levi what he meant, but deep down inside, he had a feeling the answer was clear enough.

* * *

 

Mike was tired.

            There wasn't much else on his mind. He was tired. The energy to express any stronger emotion wasn't available. His forearms burned, a little pattern of black stitched marking the slits in his forearms. Mike didn't have much else to look at. Being strapped down into a bed left him with little options. Yet he didn't want to move at all anyway. The straps were useless. Mike wasn't going to rush to find something to stab himself with. He wasn't ready to rush to do anything. His muscles still ached, his head still throbbed, he felt dizzy. Sleep would have been nice, but he couldn't sleep. Mike wondered who would come to see him. A nurse, or a doctor, or maybe, if he was unlucky, Erwin and Levi. He wasn't sure he could look them in the eyes. It was embarrassing. He couldn't even kill himself right.

            The sound of the door opening came forward, as well as heels clicking on the tile floor. Mike turned his head, pulling at the straps on his neck. The curtain surrounding his hospital bed was pulled back, and standing to his side was an older woman. She wasn't young, but that didn't mean she wasn't beautiful. Her hair was cut just above her ears, blonde, like Erwin, but the bangs curled at the tips instead of being combed back like Erwin did. She had a white button up shirt on, some black slacks, and red heels. Her pale face had seen time, but time had done her well. She gave Mike a small smile, and stepped forward, reaching out to him.

            "Hello." she spoke, her voice wasn't full of fake cheer like a rehearsed doctor, but it wasn't so monotonous as the nurses pretending to care if Mike responded. "I can't believe they bound your head down. Let me take that off." she reached down, un-strapping Mike's head and neck, as well as his arms and chest. He groaned a bit, it felt better to not be so restricted, and he shifted his arms around to get blood flowing.

            "Mike, yes?" she asked. "You must be either too hot or too cold." a hand came over Mike's forehead, her hands were warm. "Oh, you don't feel too bad. Good. You probably want socks and blankets, this hospital is always freezing."

            Mike watched the woman, un-strapping his hips and legs. She didn't look professional, like a doctor, but she didn't look unrehearsed, like the nurses. He pursed his lips, trying to match the woman's face, the familiarity of her voice.

            "Nanaba." He spoke, he wanted to ask her name, but he felt he knew. The woman blinked, and turned on her heels, staring at Mike.

            "You remember me?" Nanaba asked, bewildered.

            "Rene... she showed me a photo of you." Mike admitted. "You sound like Rene too."

            Nanaba's features softened, and she stepped back, looking over Mike, now freed from his restraints. "I see. That would have been amazing if you remembered me from the past. I should explain myself, I'm your psychiatrist. For now at least."

            "I thought you were becoming a brain surgeon...?" Mike replied, remembering Rene's words.

            Nanaba laughed. "I don't know about that. I still don't know why I went back to school. Maybe I'm just panicking now that my little girl is already eighteen and has a job..." she mulled over her thoughts a bit, and reached out for the hospital bed remote, raising the bed so Mike could sit up comfortably.

            "Oh... You look so young. I forgot Rene is your daughter, not your sister." Mike replied. Nanaba laughed, sarcastically, and looked to Mike with an amused face.

            "Shush you. Compliments don't work on me."

            Mike gave a weak smile in return. It faded. He watched Nanaba drag a padded chair over, and pulled a little notebook out of her pockets She pulled a little red pen from her pocket, and clicked it, writing a few words down.

            "I guess I have to answer some questions now?" Mike asked, tilting his head to face Nanaba. "Why did I do it? How do I feel? Maybe look at some Rorschach paintings?"

            Nanaba scoffed again. "We don't have to talk about anything, actually. I get paid by the hour. So as long as I'm sitting here, the hospital is paying me. That's all I need to do. It's not even coming out of your pocket. So maybe just between you  and me, we can just order something to eat and I get paid?" Nanaba gave a wink, smiling slightly.

            Mike found it in himself to laugh, which surprised him. It was a wheeze of a laugh, and he looked to the woman, she didn't stop smiling. He turned in his bed, laying on his side, and bringing his arms close to himself. Nanaba kept her notebook down on her lap, and her legs crossed, red high heels pointed to the side. Mike felt a bit of relief wash over him. It had been so long since someone joked with him, unless the woman wasn't joking. Even then, it had still been so long in which someone treated Mike like a human being.

            Nanaba pulled out a small device, flipping it open and revealing it to be a cellphone. She pressed out a few numbers, leaning back in her chair.

            "What are you doing?" Mike asked.

            "I'm getting pizza." she replied, pressing the phone to her ear. "You don't mind if I write it off as a necessary therapeutic expense, right? Cause then we don't have to pay for it."

            Mike scoffed again. Was this woman forcing him into a date? It seemed crude to ask, yet Mike wondered what kind of person she was to admit to breaking the rules for him so nonchalantly. He shifted up against the bed, scratching his arm, and gave her a small innocent smile, hesitant to speak.

            "Um... I don't really like pizza."

            "What?" Nanaba knitted her brows incredulously. "How can you not like pizza?- No, I wasn't speaking to you." Nanaba turned her head to speak into the phone properly. "Give me a second-" she dropped the phone to her lap, turning to look at Mike. "What do you have against pizza?" she asked as if Mike was making some sort of personal attack.

            "I don't really like tomato sauce. It doesn't smell good..." Mike mumbled. "I have a sensitive nose." He added, as if to back up his argument.

            "Pfft." Nanaba rolled her eyes. "I can get white sauce pizza. That's the beauty of it isn't it? It's your choice. Pizza doesn't mind if you change the recipe- yes, hello?" Nanaba lifted the phone back to her ear, ordering the pizzas. Mike was hesitant to make any sort of denial for such a service, he wasn't hungry at the moment. He was just tired. Not to mention a little uncomfortable. The thoughts of what had happened so far left his mind, but they quickly came back... He gazed down at the stitches on his arms. Any joy from Nanaba' playful personality was quickly sucked out of him. He scratched at the black stitches, they weren't very comfortable either. Mike felt it would be more comfortable to have just left the wounds open anyway...

            "Hey, don't scratch, what are you a dog?" Nanaba put her hands on Mike's stitches, trying to stop his hands from itching at them. "I'll duct tape mittens to you if you keep that up."

            Mike twitched, slinking back into the bed. He had a feeling he would be getting treated like a five year old anyway. What he had done was unthinkable to some people, they would box him up and tell him his thoughts were wrong. He should want to live, he should want to survive... Even now, despite the small smiles he managed to produce, he knew Nanaba's job was truthfully to get him to speak about his issues. He pursed his lips together, and laid back in bed.

            "Do you want a blanket? This room is freezing..." Nanaba stood up, walking to the other hospital bed and stripping the blanket off. "No one is using it anyway." she justified, and placed it over Mike, tucking the corners under the bed gently, and pulling the blanket up to his chest. He watched her, trying to produce another smile, or some way of expressing gratitude that he could stomach, but in the end, he simply stared at her, a sombre look on his face. Nanaba brushed her hands over the blanket, smoothing them out, petting Mike's chest.

            "You're a strong man now." she spoke. "I never thought you'd ever speak back to me. I always thought I'd speak to a brick wall." Nanaba leaned on the railing of the bed, smiling. "Rene must've told you, yes? I did your atrophy treatment for at least fifteen years. Sometimes I used to think you were like a close friend- and this is the first time you ever met me though, huh? I bet you've been hearing this so much it just creeps you out though. Meeting people who've known you for years... that you've never met until now. I bet I'm not helping though."

            Mike looked over Nanaba for a long moment, he smiled, and out-stretched his hand to her.

            "It's nice to meet you. Again. For the first time." Mike replied. Nanaba laughed, and clasped his hand tightly, giving him a handshake.

            "Nice to meet you too." she replied, settling against the chair she had set by the bed. "I imagined you had a deeper voice you know? That was just me dreaming though.. I'm creeping you out, I apologise." Nanaba shook her head, leaning back. "I'm not good at first impressions."

            "That's fine. I'm not very good at them either." Mike replied. "I'm not very good at anything..." the thoughts returned to him, his arms folded, feeling the stitches on his arms. Yes, not good at anything. Good for nothing. Nanaba brushed his hair back, looking him in the eyes.

            "Don't worry about that." Nanaba remarked. "You're too tired right now... You should just eat and rest. Maybe we can tell each other dumb things and get our mind off of the world. I think that's nicer."

            "I have to face it eventually." Mike huffed. "I guess I'm late to the party but I just realise... well, it's been twenty years right? I don't know anything about what's happened, I don't know how computers ended up on cellphones, I don't know why you can't smoke on an airplane, I don't know what-"

            Nanaba pushed the palm of her hand into Mike's mouth, stopping him abruptly. He stared at her dumbly for a moment, before she gave him a smile, and pulled her hand away.

            "It's okay to not know. Okay?" she asked. "I don't know how computers ended up in cellphones either. Never mind it... You know very well at some point it'll be time to face the music. I don't think you need me for that. If there's anything you want to talk to me about, feel free to. You're a strong man, I know you are."

            Mike felt Nanaba pull her hand from his mouth, and he looked down at his arms again, and gave a soft sigh. He twisted his fingers into the blanket and looked back up to the ceiling.

            "I thought they would do better without me... They've been suffering because of me for a long time." Mike mumbled. "I thought if they had less expenses then maybe they could move back to their old house..."

            Nanaba watched Mike, but she had returned to writing in her little notebook. She gazed up at Mike, tilting her head.

            "Mike. Do you know who found you?" she asked, tilting her head.

            "No... I don't think I was conscious." Mike admitted.

            "It was the little boy. Uh... Armin, I think." Nanaba explained. "The paramedics were telling the nurses and the nurses kind of told me, not very reliable, they just like to gossip a lot. I should know, I was one."

            Mike physically flinched. Had he done everything wrong? He wanted to hide from the children, not force them to see something like that. He shut his eyes, letting out a sigh as he scratched at his stitches.

            "Is he okay?" Mike asked.

            "Of course. Armin was the one that called the ambulance over. Levi and Erwin were the ones who tried to keep you alive before the paramedics showed up. You lost blood fast, you needed some transfusions. And you know what saved you?" Nanaba slid her hand in her pocket, producing a silver metal tab, offering it to Mike. He looked over it, finally reaching out to grab it. It was a dog tag, military issued, his name, his birthday, and most importantly, his blood type was stamped on.

            "How did... this get here?" he asked, blinking in confusion. "I never had this on me... I never had anything on me. I didn't even have my sweater."

            "Who do you think kept that?" Nanaba pressed her lips together, raising her brow, and waiting for Mike to respond. He hesitated, he didn't want to keep his hopes up, but he had little hope left, so it was pointless. He flipped it back and forth, noting that it didn't seem to have been touched in a while, kept intact.

            "Erwin..." Mike mumbled.

            "Yup." Nanaba chirped. "He kept it in his wallet... I already knew that. I met him every Saturday when he came to visit. He was still head over heels in love with you. God, you should have seen him. He wouldn't stop talking about you. You were the greatest thing in the world to him. I could tell, because half the time, he'd say 'don't tell him I said that' and tried to laugh it off. The longer your coma got, the less and less Erwin joked, or spoke of you like that. I promised you someday that if you woke up I'd tell you all the silly thing your boyfriend would say to you..."

            Nanaba fell to a downcast expression. Her eyes still carried the same sense of joy, but her body language fell far from it. "And Erwin started to cry. I don't think he could take it. I never thought a man like him could cry. He seemed so stone-faced. When the years passed he kept telling you about his marriage, about his children, he used to tell you about how Eren was a lot like you when you were little. Picking fights he couldn't win. But it seemed worth trying... Mike, I know you're in a lot of pain right now. I won't try to romanticise about time and death and suffering, I respect you a little too much to do that. But don't you ever think that Erwin stopped loving you, okay? Don't think they're suffering in that house. The only reason they'd be suffering... is because you are."

            Mike stared at Nanaba for a long moment, his tired eyes started to glisten with tears, and he wished it would stop. He had always been very blunt with his emotions, but this had been too much for Mike to bear.  He never thought he would cry in front of people, he always found a place to hide. Nanaba seemed to be the safest person to be around though, someone who didn't mind anything. As a few tears fell, Nanaba brought a tissue to his face and dabbed the side of his eyes.

            "No need for that. It'll clog up your nose and make your eyes hurt. Maybe later we can just have a big crying party, but not now, okay?" Nanaba asked. Mike obliged her, trying to stop himself from crying anymore. He was sick of it all too, and he wished it could all stop.

            "I just..." Mike tried to speak what he felt he couldn't say. He hesitated, his words just didn't form right, and he sat there, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment. Nanaba patiently awaited his words.

            "How can he still love me? Hasn't he moved on?" Mike mumbled.

            Nanaba pursed her lips together tight for a moment, and she gave Mike an amused look.

            "I have no idea." she replied. "But I can take a guess." Nanaba leaned forward, pulling out a ring, showing it to Mike. "I used to be married too you know. I mean, I had Rene somehow, didn't I?"

            Mike hesitated to say anything, so Nanaba pressed on.

            "He passed away. Rene was only five... I still had to work, I think I spent far too much time here... Rene even told me she used to think of you as something of a dad. Just because you were always here... I used to think, maybe I should get married again, just so Rene would have a dad... but I could never love someone again. Not like that. Maybe I'm just a solitary creature. Usually people are pretty selfish... So the fact that we're so desperate to find another person is strange." she leaned over the railing of the bed, sighing softly.

            "I think I only have enough room in my heart to love one person. And that was my husband. I couldn't marry anyone else after that. Love for your children isn't the same, it's like they have a part of you that you have given up. You must sacrifice everything, as well as love, in order to care for them. Children are sensitive to the aspect. But love for your partner, that's different. Partners leave holes in your heart. It hurts not to be with them, and as we love for our children to grow and change, it's the opposite. We want our partners to stay the same. Be the people we fell in love with. And sometimes we cannot have that. Not forever. I only have enough room in my heart to love one person. That's the kind of person I am. However, some people have it in their heart to love more than one person, and they suffer a lot. They love even if the person they love is no longer with them. I think Erwin is like that. He has a heart to love more than one person."

            Mike stared up at the ceiling, Nanaba's words buzzing in his head a bit. He blinked a few times, as if to clear his thoughts, and gave her an affirmed nod. If she was right, maybe Mike was wrong. Erwin still loved him. And it was killing him inside.

            "I should talk to them..." Mike admitted. He realised in a second that Nanaba must've been a genius. Psychiatrists would guilt suicide patients into talking with their families. Into having any sort of intervention. They would be forced or surprised with being pulled over, being told all the thing they were doing to make other people suffer. Nanaba had brought him to his own conclusion, his own desire to speak with the people that care about him. He was nervous, but he knew he had to do it. Nanaba gave an assured smile, and patted Mike on the shoulder.

            "Good. They want to talk to you too. Do you want me to bring them in?" Nanaba offered, and Mike felt his stomach tightening. He knew now Nanaba had made it clearly his own choice, anything from this point on was not forced on him, it wasn't surprised. It was a choice. Mike realised the severity of that. He had been given very few choices in his life, especially to end up here.

            "Yes." Mike answered before he took in any more thoughts. Nanaba gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, stepping back.

            "I'll go get them. I hope this doesn't turn into a crying festival, because then I wont be in the mood for pizza." Nanaba joked, in one last attempt to get Mike to smile again. It worked, for a few seconds. She stepped to the door, her heels clicking before she paused, hand against the doorknob.

            "From here on out, it's going to be okay, got it?" she asked, and exited the room before Mike could give an answer. He thought about her words for a long moment, and with a hesitant heart, decided, yes she was right. Despite all the pain, the fatigue, the fear, and the embarrassment, it was going to be okay.

* * *

 

Christmas was spend in the hospital.

            And that was all right. Eren and Mikasa were busy with a video game Levi was unable to buy until recently. Armin was busy studying a new book, Essential Principles of Human Anatomy and Physiology. When they got bored, Mikasa and Eren would throw snow off the roof of the hospital at pedestrians passing by, trying not to get caught by the people, and more importantly, not get caught by Levi. Mike was tired for most of the time, he still felt guilt as he did feel shame for what he had done. It didn't seem like anyone minded. Erwin and Levi took the time to finally sit down with him, and they finally began to explain everything.

            On January 2nd 1990, 3:27 in the morning, a near fatal crash occurred on a highway outside of a military garrison base. About a half hour away, there had recently been a New Year's party. The accident would be a head on collision with a drunk driver. Erwin had never seen them coming, they turned into the wrong lane at the last moment. The passengers of that car died instantly. There we're two children in the backseat of the drunk drivers car. Erwin and Mike would be in the other car. Erwin ended up only with cuts, bruises, and broken jaw. Mike had been ejected through the windshield, and thrown about ten metres across the road. He broke thirty-seven bones, including his femur and most of his ribs. He also had a bruised heart, and a punctured lung. The damage to his head wasn't permanent, but he was comatose before he could feel any of it. Surgery was performed so the inflammation wouldn't kill Mike. He survived. At least, he certainly didn't die.

            Time passed, Erwin decided to go back to the military to finish what he started. In return, he lost his right hand and some vision in his right eye. They honourably discharged him with a medal for being injured in combat. Nothing felt special about it though. Erwin would constantly say that he deserved the injury. And when he returned home, he was completely shocked to hear Mike was still in a coma. Everyone but his parents deemed he was a hopeless case. The treatment for coma patients was ridiculously expensive. To be given muscular atrophy treatment and fed, as well as remaining in a hospital was a small fortune. It was running Mike's parents out of house and home, yet they refused to give up. Erwin tried his best to help. He gained a prosthetic arm, and visited Mike almost every day, trying desperately to find a job that would hire him.

            Mike would have been in a coma for five years when Levi returned from the military, unscratched. Levi took the news of Mike's coma with surprise, and Erwin's attachment, with disappointment. Levi forced Erwin to get back on his feet. He forced Erwin to go to college so he could get a job. Erwin visited every Saturday when that happened. He learned more about philosophy, and took classes on business and management. He became a broker of his own business. But he never forgot to visit Mike. Every Saturday, with a vase of lavenders. The nurses knew him well, they felt devastated for Erwin, they always said he had to be the most dedicated man in the world. Erwin would always respond with the same thing. That Mike would do the same.

            Soon enough, every Saturday, Erwin showed up with Levi. He talked to Mike like he was still alive, still responding to him, like a regular human being. Levi slowly convinced Erwin it was unhealthy. It wasn't helping anyone. That Erwin needed to move on. Erwin would refuse. Levi wasn't going to push it. Eventually Erwin knew he needed to move on with living though, but that didn't mean forgetting. He started to date Levi, and the time he visited became once every other Saturday, sometimes, once a month. Erwin came to Mike's room on his wedding day, and he couldn't stop himself from crying. Levi waited for Erwin outside, and pretended not to notice how pained he seemed to be. Deep down inside, Erwin wasn't sure who he loved more. Levi or Mike. He loved them both, Mike had been with him since childhood. Levi had done so much for him though, Levi had convinced him to try and turn his life around, and he knew he'd never have gotten a good job, or cleaned himself up without him. In the end Levi made him happy, and he made him feel like he could finally forgive himself, and maybe even recover.

            Levi always wanted one boy and one girl if children came into the equation. And eleven years into the coma, Erwin brought a young child named Armin to the hospital. His son. With his knees broken by what was assumed to be his original parents, Armin would be in wheelchair until he turned nine. He didn't understand much at the time he met Mike, but in that defining moment, he wanted to be a doctor, a surgeon of some kind, and he had his heart set on it. Armin would learn to walk and move again at the same hospital Mike stayed sleeping at. Levi was attempting to adopt a girl, but a close friend of the girl refused to let her go alone. So Eren and Mikasa were adopted at the same time. They had some mental problems, so the doctors said, but they seemed just fine. A dysfunctional family seemed to be the only one Levi and Erwin were capable of running.

            Thirteen years into the coma, and the car accident that would kill Mike's parents happened. Erwin was the first person to be notified. The people at the morgue would try to call Mike, but they would learn that Mike was in a coma. Erwin handled the funeral, a very little amount of attendees, considering the Zacharias family was a very distant one, but immediate family members loved each other very much. Erwin shouldered the weight of the extreme expense of paying the hospital to take care of Mike. Soon the family moved from their high-priced apartment to a broken down house out in the near country. The price of driving to work was more affordable than the price of living near Erwin's work place. For a long time he took the bus in order to save money. Erwin got in the newspaper for it, that a wealthy broker like him had went to move into the country in order to take care of his friend. People found it sweet, most found it heartbreaking.

            Why Mike awoke twenty years later, they doctors were never very sure. They called Erwin as soon as they could to say Mike's brain was suddenly active, and a quick EEG scan showed not only was it active, it was gaining activity. The nurses were giddy with anxiety, and they couldn't wait to bring Erwin and Levi in to see their finally awoke friend. Mike awoke that September day, delirious, but sure enough, conscious. That was all Erwin ever wanted. He could barely keep himself together when Mike opened his eyes and looked at him for the first time after twenty long years. And now that Erwin could finally explain the time they had lost, Erwin was able to apologise for everything he had done. For everything that had happened. And even after all that time, he still loved Mike.

            Mike couldn't help being in pain after all of the time passed was finally spoken to him. He needed breaks, he needed time to cry, he needed time to understand. But it was there. Mike finally felt his puzzling life was put together, the broken bizarre puzzle that it was. And in the end, he couldn't hate Levi or Erwin, they were only human. Mike found that he only loved them all the same. Twenty years would never change that. No, not even twenty thousand years.

            Depression hit Mike hard, like a train going out of control. It wasn't easy, it was never supposed to be easy. He still felt he was a burden, he felt he was a flaw. He wondered if he ever should have been born, if he ever should have lived, if he was supposed to died that fateful day. There wasn't much Erwin and Levi could do about that. They could never understand. No one could understand. And that's where Nanaba shined strongest. Fifteen years of being the one to treat Mike's atrophy and she too felt like a friend. She had been strong acquaintances with Erwin and Levi, she knew where they did best, and where they were fools. Mike's pain was taken by her, and he felt comfortable crying with her, being hugged against her chest and being told 'there, there, I'm right here.' she never comforted him by saying 'It's okay' because it wasn't okay. It wasn't supposed to be okay. It was difficult. It was painful. Mike still had to fight the desire to cut his wrists again, the desire to hang himself. He still felt so distant from the world, like he was a thousand miles away from everyone. Nanaba did not pressure the new world on him. She merely faced him towards the best path. It was up to Mike to choose to walk it.

            Mike needed therapy, he needed Nanaba around to speak to him, to let all his suppressed suicidal desires be spoken, to be understood. Nanaba became Mike's ally. She was there for him, never to say it was okay, never to fix him, but to allow him to fix himself. Something more than a friend, more than a soul mate. Something simple. Something necessary. Mike needed to know life was worth living. Nanaba gave him that, in a way that Erwin and Levi would never fully understand.

            Erwin and Levi needed training too. Nanaba did her best to help them, to make them understand. How to treat Mike, how to expect Mike to feel. They learned how to take care of him, in a much more proper way. How to make sure the feelings were not implosive or explosive. Mike had developed anxiety problems, Nanaba explained that Mike would be tired, he would be fatigued all the time, but it would be hard for him to sleep. That he might have nightmares, that he might have anxiety attacks. Sometimes it would be best to hug him and calm him down, and bring him close. Sometimes it would be better to leave him alone, and let him work it out on his own. Their household would never be normal, but Erwin and Levi knew how to run a dysfunctional family. They could handle one more person.

            Things weren't great, but they were getting better. Mike needed lots of time to sleep, but he didn't have to stay in the hospital much longer. He would be able to stay at home for New Years to come around. Mike had come to learn that Erwin did not like to celebrate New Year's, he had a feeling it was related to the car accident, but no one pushed to ask him. Erwin still let Mikasa and Eren light fireworks. Armin didn't seem to like it much either, the loudness of the fireworks was too irritating. And by the time he was able to go home, Nanaba paid him a visit, with a very strange announcement.

            "I know how to make your feel better." she spoke, sitting down in the living room couch. "You and I need to die."

            "I'm pretty sure I've been trying to avoid that." Mike was often in the living room, his knees to his chest, still in his wool sweater that Erwin had given him. Usually now that the snow was harsh, he bundled in the blanket from Rene as well. Sometimes Armin would join him, often trying to memorize the names of the muscular system and their functions. This time Armin was just musing over the newspaper watching the snow fall.

            "Not actually die- It's a form of therapy. I think you ought to try it. I can do it with you." Nanaba pulled off her jacket, her heels clicking on the wooden floors as she moved around. She pulled from her pocket a small pamphlet that was in several different languages. The English version had the words 'Fake Funeral'

            "Fake funeral?" Mike knitted his brows, looking to Nanaba in confusion.

            "Oh, I've heard of those. They do them in South Korea." Armin spoke up, his interested piqued. "You write your will, put on funeral clothing, and they do a little service for you, put you in a coffin, and they allow you to die."

            "You know I don't need people to help me die." Mike responded, pulling the sleeve of his sweater down to show the scar on his arm. Mike had no longer become ashamed of his cutting, still a bit regretful of it, albeit, but Nanaba had convinced him that there was no sense in shame. It wasn't good to repress any feelings left inside.

            "No, not actually die, they allow you to experience death. It's some sort of mediation thing. It's not really anything special." Armin added. "I don't know how it would work. I figure I could try it someday."

            "If they do this in South Korea why would they bring it here of all places?" Mike asked, slightly baffled.

            "I have a friend who does psychology studies, and wanted to help out over here." Nanaba explained. "Death meditation has actually been good for patients who have suicidal thoughts, or panic and anxiety attacks. It's completely voluntary, you can't be forced into it. They give you a pre-funeral lecture, a little study in psychology, then you write a will, put on the burial clothing, and they take you on a walk through the forest. They lay out some coffins, and then you lay in it for a while. They pull you out eventually, but they never disclose how long the coffin thing is."

            Mike looked uncertain. He pulled the bundle of blankets up a bit, shaking his head.

            "I've been doing fine lately. I'd rather not think about death at the moment." He huffed.

            "I think the doctor could change your mind. She's much better at explaining it. I trust her, she's one of my closest friends. And well... we have to meet her, because I already said I'd bring you along."

            "You're a real good psychiatrist." Mike retorted sardonically. "Very organised."

            "I'll go too if you want. I like psychological studies." Armin spoke, pulling away from the windowsill.

            "I don't really know..." Mike mumbled.

            "Oh, I knew you'd hesitate. That's why I'm forcing you. Come on, we can go meet her now. She wanted to meet in the park." Nanaba got up, and extended her hand to pull Mike off the couch. Mike looked to her, hesitating a bit, and reached out, clasping her hand.

            "Who is this friend of yours anyway?" He huffed.

            "A psychologist, her name is Hanji Zoe."

* * *

 

            Hanji was dressed in a black long sleeve pants and shirt, holding an umbrella to stop the snow from piling on top of her. The three met her in the forest, she was medium size, brunette hair that was pulled back nicely into a ponytail. She wore thick glasses that she constantly cleaned the frost off of. Mike still felt hesitant upon meeting her, and the four found themselves walking around the forest before they could give any initial hesitation to it.

            "The forest is a nice place to be." Hanji would ramble on. "You know, in Japan, they have a therapy known as Shinrin-yoku, means 'forest bathing' like you're actually submerging in the forest, being encompassed in it. They take people under immense stress out to the forest and allow them to have a sort of alone time. Very therapeutic, very calming-"

            "Yeah, yeah, Hanji, you've told me before you know." Nanaba replied, still walking around in the snow in her high heels with ease. "I was wondering more about the fake funeral service though. Mike wants to participate in it."

            "I don't remember agreeing." Mike piped in.

            "Oh, of course! Fake funerals are a much more severe way of therapy, but I'm completely supportive of it. I wrote a few papers on it too, about meditation and psychological benefits of it. Death meditation is a very extreme way of therapy, but if people would like to try, I wouldn't mind showing them. We have a little seminar about what it's all about, but I could try to explain it a little now so you don't have to be overwhelmed." Hanji brought her hands to her face, blowing on them a few times and rubbing them together for heat. There was a clearing in the forest they would meet up at, and Hanji stopped there, giving a joyful sigh.

            "Here it is. This is where we will come walking to for the coffins. We will place the coffins in some natural place. Somewhere quiet. So people can have time to think in peace. Most people who come to the services learn that death is very peaceful and warm. It's not so bad really." Hanji explained, walking around in the fallen snow. "I want to be able to help soothe people's minds. But every experience is unique. I cannot guarantee any outcome. I can't guarantee anything at all. If you wish to try, then I would love to be your guide."

            Hanji turned to look at Mike. He tugged at his sweater, looking around the forest of snow, hesitating at the idea. Hanji looked like a nut, but she seemed to have a method to her madness. And Mike had not hesitated at Nanaba's advice, she had been very good to him. This treatment didn't seem so bad. Unusual. But not bad. Mike turned his head, looking around, and gave a sceptical nod of his head.

            Hanji grinned, nodding in return. "That's great. The services are tomorrow." Hanji pulled out something like an invitation, which had given him an itinerary of what would happen during the services.

            "Tomorrow?" Mike asked.

            "Yup, try to be ready. It'll be great, I promise!" Hanji gave a nod of her head, turning to Nanaba. "And you will be there too?"

            "And me." Armin piped up, still looking over Hanji in an amused fashion. Hanji widened her eyes a bit, leaning in to look at the blond boy.

            "You want to have a funeral too?" she asked, tilting her head.

            "I don't see why not." Armin remarked. "I've never gotten much experience with meditation therapy. I want to try it out."

            "Is that so? Shame a young doctor wants to die." Hanji joked, and pulled out two more invitations, handing them to Nanaba and Armin. "I guess the good die young." she joked again, giving a smile. "Address is on the front. I'll see you all tomorrow. Also- please address me as a funeral director. Doctor seems so formal." she gave a nod of her head, and walked off, leaving the three in the middle of a snowy field, left to their own imagination.

* * *

 

There was a little seminar that Hanji ran, speaking of the understanding of why death meditation was so important. Armin was scribbling notes out about the things Hanji would say. The importance of meditation as a way of therapy to people who needed it. There was much more people there than Mike ever imagined, though everyone had a different story. Hanji went on about famous people who took their times of suffering and overcame them. How it made them stronger. But the most important thing was to make people think. Around twenty people were there for this fake funeral. Some seemed moved by Hanji, ready to cry the moment they walked through the door. Mike was not so sure. The seminar was disbanded, and Hanji explained that the group would meet again at night. She told them to live the last day of their lives slowly, and contemplate the decisions they had made up until that point. There was no need to rush through the day, they were all walking to death in the end.

            Hanji spent some time with Mike after the seminar, she had wanted to speak to him after seeing so much about him in the paper, thinking how amazing it was to survive a twenty year coma. Mike told her the same thing he always said.

            "I don't feel very amazing." Mike sighed. Hanji and him were walking through a crosswalk, Hanji convinced him to take a walk around town for one last time before he "died".

            "We're all amazing, Mike." Hanji spoke with such rawness, the conviction in her words were deep. "Existing is truly amazing. And walking towards death is nothing to be afraid of."

            "Um... I'm having a hard time convincing myself that I'm going to die today." Mike admitted, his hand coming to massage the back of his neck.

            "We're all dying today. Some of us are already dead, and we don't even know it." Hanji replied. Mike furrowed his brow, looking to her with confusion. Hanji gave a glance around the people next to her, stopping at the sidewalk. People rushed to and fro between them, and as Mike paused, he watched as everyone walked around them. Darting back and forth, blurry lines of existing bodies. Heads ducked down, looking at their phones, their games, their music, earphones plugged in, papers clutched tightly in people's hands, too rushed for time to ever actually stop and put valuable papers away in a bag, people sipping on soda and coffee, shoving pastries and fast food down their mouth as to not interfere with their schedule. As soon as Hanji stopped on that busy street corner, and looked up around, allowing Mike to do the same, he felt a sense of bewilderment at the scene around him. He felt confused for a moment.

            "Life is not stopping for us. Time is only a concept we have made up. Minutes, hours, days, years... those are not real. Just existing. Now. In this moment. That is amazing. That will always be amazing." Hanji spoke. "Do not divide your time into seconds and hours... please. I wish for that. Even now school children rush to their classes at the ringing of a bell. An employee glances at a clock, waiting for his next smoke break. We fear the clock, we fear being late. We have created these things have we not? Then we are greater than them. We are greater than the car, greater than the sidewalk, greater than the clock. They do not run us, do they? But we have forced ourselves to obey them. Clocks only enforce rules that we invented."

            Mike looked down at himself. No one stopped like they did. People darted around him, as if he was a stone in the river. Rushing around, avoiding him, hoping he would not get in the way. Hanji was that way too, people would not look up from their devices, merely glancing and slipping away from other people. They were busy in a world of pop music and internet chatter. Mike never felt more distant.

            "I don't expect you to feel this way forever." Hanji continued. "People return to their normal lives. Fear of being late, fear of not fitting in. Oh..." Hanji sighed deeply, shaking her head. "It is so hard to survive in a world like this if you do not fit in, isn't it? Some people who are desperate to try and fit in never will. Like misshapen puzzle pieces. Mike, you will always be different, twenty years of lost time will never be given back to you. If you can try, I know you will return to your old ways of being human. But do remember, that it's normal to not fit in. Okay?"

            Mike let her words set in. Twenty years of time he will never get back. Yes, he knew that was true. It had hit home. It hit home hard. He wasn't young anymore. He couldn't do anything about that. But he could live. He wasn't the same man he was when he fell asleep. And he no longer needed to be. Time had played a cruel trick on him, and it was his turn now, to move on. He knew that now. It was not in his purpose to fit in with the world. Misshapen puzzle pieces do not belong here. He would find his own place to be. Mike gave a small smile, running his fingers through his hair.

            "I get it... Thank you Han-" Mike looked around for the woman, but she was gone, dispersed amongst the throngs of people. Mike was alone. People didn't look his way as he spoke to no one. Hanji had disappeared somewhere, perhaps, that was best. Mike continued to smile, and shook his head, deciding that it was okay, just for the moment, to be alone.

* * *

 

By the end of the evening, after the sun had set, and stars drunk up the darkness of night on the horizon, Mike and the others had been dressed up in a ceremonial burial clothing. Armin and Nanaba stood with him. The group of people had been writing their wills earlier, and Hanji had told them to think about their life, and write out what they wanted to say to their loved ones, anything they would leave behind as a note to them. Even though Mike was so sceptical about the fake funeral, he couldn't help crying when he wrote the will. He didn't want to die. He didn't know what he'd leave behind. In the end, he wrote his will out to Erwin and Levi, he couldn't think of anyone else to write to.

            Now each participant walked through the forest, their will in one hand, and a small white candle in the other. Hanji said that they would walk to death through the forest. The angel of death was upon them. Someone in a dark mask and hat came to greet them, saying nothing, and beckoned them to leave the seminar office, and walk out into the snow covered forest. It was their last walk. Hanji told them to reflect upon all they had done in their lives, and what they wish they had done better. People were crying, truly taking such ideas to heart. That this would be their last walk, their last look at the world. The atmosphere was sullen and quiet. Mike kept to himself, his candle on a plate held close to his chest. He stuck close to Hanji, who seemed to know the forest well. It was hard to see at night, and all they had were the candles. Hanji told the attendants that they would be laid in the coffins that she had placed in the fields out in the forest, they would be there for an undisclosed amount of time, and they would experience death there.

            There was a clearing in the forest, where the snow had fallen in a circular field. Evergreen trees stood around, blanketed in white snow, as if it were a ceremonial veil. The trees huddled close, as if to peer into the strange little clearing. Sitting in the clearing, was a smooth wooden box, a rectangular shape, just big enough to fit a large man.

            A coffin.        

            Mike already laid inside the coffin, staring up at the stars above him, and the snow that had hit his face. Hanji leaned over the wooden coffin, a black umbrella in one hand, holding the candle close. The small orange flame flickered as the cold encompassed the area. Other than the moonlight, the candle was the only light in the area.

            "As your funeral director, I bid you to sleep." Hanji whispered, her voice was calm and powerful. She set her umbrella in the snow. Holding the candle with two hands, her eyes glowed in the orange flame, whispered silently to the coffin. Inside, now looking in, she nodded to Mike, and gave him a good look. He was tall, but his body had become skinny with neglect. Large marks travelled up his wrist to his elbow. Cuts on his arms. His hair had been combed out neatly, framing his eyes. His blond hair looked black in the darkness, and it was hard to see his eyes. His face had graven features marked into it. He looked like a young face, forced to become old by time's cruel schedule.

            Mike tugged at his burial clothing, an old gown of white cloth, and draped in a heavy blanket, resting just below his chest. Hanji set the candle down, at the base of the coffin, and stepped to the side, hands free of any items. Pressing her palms together, she gave a small speech to no one in particular.

            "Waking up and living every day can be difficult. The group has always been more important than the individual, huh? It's so hard to survive when you do not belong, when you do not fit in. In death there is not always despair. Sometimes there is peace. We all will break away from these vessels. These vessels called bodies. It is okay to look for peace outside of our skin. Outside of this world. Everyone has suppressed darkness inside them. We do not wish to think about it, but in death, we are forced to face them."

            The other figure appeared at the other end of the box. Dressed in black, their face covered, and a hat hiding any distinguishing features.

            "The angel of death has come to claim you." Hanji whispered. "We will tie your limbs in the ceremonial sash, and send you away." these methods seemed different from a normal funeral. A strange take held on these two who gazed at the man in the coffin. Death was not mourned by these people. In fact these people seemed to believe that death was peaceful for whoever lay in the coffin. Perhaps in a strange religious cult the man once belonged to, but it didn't seem to be the case. It seemed very personal, very calm. The figure addressed as the angel of death leaned in, binding the man's hands very loosely with a white sash. The figure trailed through the snow, standing the man's feet, binding those limbs as well. He recovered the body with the blanket.

            "Such as the tide rises and falls in the ocean. You ebb into the flow of our universal woes. Departing from this world... And to the next one." Hanji continued as they began to slide the cover over the coffin, pressing the wooden nails down firmly in their places. Hanji then walked over to the end of the coffin, and kneeled in the snow. Picking up the candle, she took in a small breath, and blew out the small flame. Grey smoke rushed into the air, embers on the tip of the wick flickered and faded. Twisting around in a slow formless dance, the smoke rushed into the winter air, and disappeared into the night.

            "Death has come. Rest in peace. Mike Zacharias."

            Mike watched the casket get covered, when they bound his limbs, a sense of fear hit him. That maybe this was death. Maybe he really was dying. That the last things said to Erwin would be the things he wrote out in his will. He bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to do. He could hear Hanji's words, and darkness made him shiver in fear.

            Mike didn't know how much time passed. He was afraid of the entrenching darkness. He stared distantly into space, but he felt a sense of warmth wash over him. His limbs relaxed, his body felt numb. There was something in his vision. It wasn't light, albeit, it wasn't darkness. Something like endlessness. The void. The void had returned. That place he had lived during his coma, where entropy was. An eternity of entropy. Decay and rot came to die as well. In this place there was nothingness, the inability to exist. Mike felt his hands tremble. Death had met him here, and life fought for him to leave.

            He began to think of his life. Of childhood, of teenage years, of his life before the coma, of his life now. He felt tears in his eyes, trembling, he felt like an infant again. Helpless, fearful, unsure. And it went away. It washed over him, hitting him like a wave of ocean water. Submerging him, encasing him inside. He was safe. It was safe. The world was safe for this one moment.

            Mike felt a sense of peace. The whole world was silent. Even now the whispering wind, and shuddering trees died down. Despite the snow the world felt warm, safe. There was no sound, not even ones of footsteps. Mike let that be, let that sense of emptiness come. That emptiness was not hollow, it was not painful. It felt like the world had left him. He would never belong. Never truly belong to anything. He was empty for that reason. Everything that he forced to weigh him down had left him. There was nothing to pin him down, no weight on his shoulders, no heaviness in his heart, no ache in his head. Emptiness. Yes, he had known this feeling, comatose for twenty years. Emptiness was the closest to death he had ever been in, and it was not something to be afraid of. It was a misunderstood entity. A friend.

            "You will be born again, and brought into this world." Hanji's voice was sudden, but it didn't startle Mike. He felt it was time he was brought into the world again anyway. The coffin lid was raised, and moonlight filled his eyes. A rush of cold snow came to kiss his face as the weather picked up. Hanji leaned her umbrella out for him, and plucked apart the sash that was binding his hands and feet. Mike was pulled up, he felt numb, like he couldn't do this on his own. Eventually the realisation came back to him that he was mobile, and climbed out. The other participants were also standing around, sullen, nervous, excited, happy. They were silent, but their faces all donned different expressions. Nanaba was looking up at the sky, she looked like she had been crying. Armin looked a little blank, lost, like a deer on the highway. His eyes were wide and wet, but he hadn't been crying, merely contemplating, staring, wondering.

            "You've all returned from death. There is so much left for you to do in this world." Hanji spoke. "I'm sure you all thought about many things inside that coffin. These are things that you must remember. Hold them close. There is no need for your life to end now. Not so suddenly. Take time as a measurement, not a lifestyle. Your lives still hold so much joy to be held. So take it slowly, take it wisely. We'll return to the world of the living now. Please return home safely, at take your time to get there." Hanji gave a short speech, everyone's candle had been relit, and the small group of people began to leave the woods. Hanji lead them forward, the figure that earlier had been called the angel of death was now a regular man with a small smile on his face. He stood at the front of the group, leading them safely out of the forest, and back into the world of the living.

            The group discarded their clothing, returning it to Hanji, took their letters, blew out their candles, and dispersed from the little office they had met up in. Hanji bid them goodbyes, some looked sullen, still contemplating the universe. Some looked overjoyed, ready to live a new life. Mike found that Nanaba and Armin both looked a little shaken, and a little confused. It gave him a small smile. Nanaba was on her cellphone, still in her heels, and now it seemed as if the time they had spent in deep contemplation, away from society, seemed all to waste. But Mike knew that was not the case. Hanji said so herself. She knew that the people she talked to would return to their normal lives, this was just time for their own thoughts.

            "Erwin and Levi will be here soon. They went out for a bit while we meditated." Nanaba quietly explained, and tucked her phone away. The three were silent, and she looked around the area, watching the other people leaving quickly, and gave a soft sigh.

            "Time to go back to the world of the living." she huffed.

            "I think we can handle it." Mike remarked. "What about you Armin?"

            Armin blinked, he still seemed in deep thought. "I suppose." he said shortly.

            Mike smiled. They left the centre, bidding Hanji a farewell, Nanaba gave her friend a hug, and Hanji wished them all to be safe, and not to forget what they had thought about. Levi and Erwin both seemed vaguely amused, but they had not seen much of it, and Mike did not expect them to really understand. Armin sat in between Mike and Nanaba, his arms folded, a dull look on his face.

            "Well?" Levi asked. "How was the therapy?"

            Before Mike and Nanaba could get a word out, Armin spoke.

            "It was a bunch of bullshit."

            Mike choked on his own spit, trying not to laugh at Armin's words. Nanaba looked a little shocked, almost surprised. Levi turned his head quick at his son, his brows knitted together, a disgruntled look on his face.

            "Why do you think that?" Nanaba asked, she seemed hurt by his thoughts.

            "It was just mental wordplay." Armin huffed. "I would have to concentrate more reading 13th century poetry. The seminar, the coffin, the wills... they don't matter. It's just making you think about death, thinking you really are going to die, so then in that moment, you get to feel all the regret you ever felt in your life. It's like Hanji said in the lecture. People from a thousand years ago had a lot of time to think about things. Nowadays were have the internet, and pop music, and TV all night long, so why bother thinking? It doesn't matter to us. There's so many external things in this world. Telling me that I'm going to die just made me incredibly selfish. It makes us all incredibly selfish, because the only person you can think about is yourself. 'I'm going to die' 'I had so much I wanted to do.' that's all we think when we die. And then Hanji goes out of her way to actually find a spot for you to meditate in. A coffin. It's just symbolism and elaboration. In the end, it didn't matter. It was just giving yourself time to think. Bullshit."

            "And where did you learn that word?" Erwin asked, his arm folded.

            "I heard mom say it on the phone. Seemed appropriate." Armin remarked.

            "You're grounded." Levi hissed.

            "What!? What did I do?" Armin snapped.

            "I told you not to swear." Levi barked back.

            "You swear all the time! That's hypocritical!" Armin returned.

            "That's different. You're smart. Smart kids like you shouldn't swear." Levi countered.

            "That doesn't make sense." Armin huffed.

            "It does make sense, because I said so." Levi snapped. "If you're smart you ought to sound like you're smart."

            Armin rolled his eyes, realising the hidden compliment in his mothers words.

            "This family is ridiculous." Armin huffed, and leaned on Mike. Mike ruffled his hair out of affection, and turned to Nanaba. She still seemed a little timid, her face no longer red from crying.

            "What did you think?" Mike asked, tilting his head.

            "I..." Nanaba pursed her lips in silence. "I felt very at peace... It was nice. I guess I never really had time to meditate before. I've been so busy with work, I feel like I should be spending more time with my little girl. As long as she allows me to. She is still a teenager after all. Maybe she doesn't want to be around her mother..."

            "Don't worry about that. Rene likes you a lot. That's why she became a nurse, so she could be close to you." Mike remarked. "Even if... we only have this time right now. You should make the most of the time you spend with her."

            "I suppose." Nanaba sighed softly. "What about you? How do you feel?"

            Mike took a long moment to think about it. Everything he ever thought in that coffin, everything that had happened up until this point. He wasn't sure how he felt. It wasn't quite sadness, but not quite happiness. Something in between. Where both were expressed. He looked down at himself, leaning back against the chair.

            "I don't know." Mike admitted. "But I think I'm going to be okay."

* * *

 

Time passed. And Mike was right. He was okay. Maybe he could have been better, but 'okay' was the best he could do. Armin seemed a little bit happier, a little bit more focused on the path to paediatric surgery. He became more determined. Mike on the other hand, felt less determined. He felt safe to not be determined. It wasn't easy, but life wasn't supposed to be easy. Mike had figured that out. He ate dinner at the table. He talked more. He smiled more. He tried his best to understand what he didn't understand. And he allowed himself to not fit in. Nanaba still stuck around, and Levi became a little bit more understanding. In fact, Levi seemed much more open to Mike, when they both eventually realised the truth. Erwin loved both of them. It didn't have to be a competition.

            Nanaba had been absolutely correct on her assumption of Erwin's problem. Erwin had it in himself to love more than one person. Mike was learning that. And Erwin was still as affectionate and kind as he was before the accident, before the coma ever happened. Levi soon became more than just a friend, something of the same capacity that Erwin was to him. And Mike realised that it wasn't just Erwin that had it in himself to love more than one person. Levi was the same too.

            Spring had come, the snow was long gone, melted away by the warm sunlight. Birds chirped and bugs buzzed alive in the forest. The apple trees blossomed brightly, and the flower garden had been returning. Wind shook the trees, threatening the new leaves to fall. Mike had been doing garden work, he was constantly rejected when he tried to find jobs. Apparently having mental problems wasn't good for the working environments, at least to most employers. Mike didn't mind, he could stick to working around the house with Levi. He always felt just a bit out of place, still loving Erwin, and finding himself caring for Levi as well. They both wore wedding rings however, and Mike didn't want to come between that. Even if Erwin did love him all the same, there was time he had not spent with Erwin, and he could not take that back.

            Mike was lounging on the chairs outside. The sunlight was strong, but the wind was cool, and it felt nice to be outside. He was sitting in the gazebo, watching the bright white clouds roll over the blue skies. The peace of such a spring day was breathtaking. Yet soon, it was quickly disturbed by Levi, slamming something down on the glass table next to Mike, causing him to jump.

            "You." Levi huffed. "Take this."

            Mike blinked, and sat up in his chair. He was still recovering from being startled, he himself had been lost in daydreaming. Levi didn't look as angry as he sounded, in fact he seemed amused. Erwin was standing beside him, rolling his eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

            "This is why I wanted to do it..." Erwin mumbled.

            "Too late." Levi replied.

            Mike only looked more bewildered. He sat up in his seat, staring at the both of them for a moment.

            "Erwin, I thought you had work today." Mike mumbled, looking to him with confusion on his face. "I saw you take off this morning..."

            "Um... I... I decided to take the day off." Erwin replied, and stepped over, sitting down on the lounge chair. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about... though Levi wants to be more up front about it."

            Mike looked back and forth between the two men. He finally trailed his gaze down to see what Levi had slammed down on the glass table. Levi was leaning back against the wooden beam of the gazebo, so Mike hesitantly reached out to the item. It was a box, a small velvet black box. He stared at it for a while, judging what it could have been. Jewellery. It was the only answer. He just didn't believe it. It had to be a necklace, or perhaps a pendant of some sort it couldn't be-

            It was a ring. Silver, no gems, but it didn't need any. Mike stared at it dumbfounded for a long moment, and he felt the tips of his ears flushing red. His heart beating faster than he would have preferred. It was an overreaction, clearly it was a gift of some sort, just a crude way of Levi being nice to him. Wasn't it? This couldn't be what he thought it was. What he wanted it to be.

            "I lied when I said I was going to work this morning." Erwin finally spoke. "I went out to buy you that... Mike, I want to ask you something. Or... perhaps make a statement. Because there's no question about it. I love you, you know that. And I want you to be with me for the rest of my life, just as much as Levi."

            Mike looked down at the ring. He pulled it out, examining it carefully, taking time to just appreciate it. He felt his stomach tightening, and for once, it wasn't in fear or pain. It was in a nervous excitement. At the same time, he breathed, trying not to get his hopes up. He just didn't want to overreact, and learn it was a joke of some sort. He hesitated, looking down at the ring. For a moment he let out a shaky breath. Mike looked to the two of them, exchanging slow glances, and wrapping his fingers protectively around the ring.

            "You... want me... to wear it?"

            "No, we want you to eat it, idiot." Levi retorted.

            "You don't have to if you don't want to." Erwin immediately reassured, and gave Levi a hard flick against the ear. "Which is why I wanted to talk with him first. Levi."

            "Ow." Levi hissed, flicking Erwin back. "Screw off."

            Mike stared at them in shock, blank, staring forward for a moment, wondering if he was daydreaming. Maybe this was another joke, another cruel joke, just like how his whole life seemed to be. Erwin and Levi seemed to hesitate as he did, wondering if he wasn't enjoying the idea the gift was clearly giving.

            "I know it seems unconventional for us all to wear wedding rings... but..." Erwin hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.

            "Shit, what isn't unconventional in this household?" Levi cut in. "What does it even matter? You've been around long enough, you deserve to be with us. It's not like you're getting any younger."

            "You... want a relationship like that?" Mike asked, looking at them both. The two looked at each other, and back at Mike.

            "We didn't buy the ring for shits and giggles. We're trying to be serious about this." Levi huffed.

            "I know I've never really been in a relationship with more than one person... but I think I can try. As long as it's you and Levi." Erwin admitted. "It's probably going to be difficult. I don't know how running a polyandrous relationship would work. Or polyamorous... whatever it's supposed to be called. I don't mind trying though. I honestly never thought about it before... I didn't mean to put it behind your back, but me and Levi have been talking about it a lot lately. So we want to put it on the table. It's up to you. If you want to, I want to as well. I don't think I can handle losing you, so if you could stick around, I'd really appreciate that."

            Mike felt his face flushing red, and he clutched the ring in his hands tightly. It was such a nice little item. After despising it for so long Mike never knew he would actually like a wedding ring as much as he did at that moment. He swallowed thickly, trying to be calm, he felt tears trying to flow from his eyes.

            "Are you... are you sure this is okay with both of you?" Mike's voice was full of anxiety.

            "Levi was the one who marched over here." Erwin huffed. "We couldn't wait any longer to ask you. Though I was trying to be more orderly about it... But yes Mike, Levi and I are both okay with this."

            "What's the big deal anyway? You can't love more than one person in this world?" Levi hissed.

            "I don't know if my heart is big enough..." Mike whispered under his breath.

            "What?" Levi pinched his brows together.

            "Nevermind." Mike replied. "I said something stupid." he looked down, slipping the ring on his finger. It wasn't a perfect fit, and he didn't expect it to be. Because that seemed just right for him. "Maybe the old Mike would have a problem with it... but now... I'd like something like that."

            The two looked a little confused, unsure what that would have meant. Mike knew very well what he meant. Before the coma, he couldn't ever think of sharing Erwin with someone, but now, he had a feeling that life, at least his life, wasn't played out in ways that were predictable. Levi settled down on the other side of Mike, and he was pressed between the two of them.

            "I think Armin would like his room back. So I guess I'll have to kick you out." Levi commented, looking to the apple trees, blossoms falling to the ground, floating, like a dream.

            "Where will I sleep then?" Mike inquired, looking to the smaller man.

            "Well, there's space in our room. The bed is big enough for three." Levi remarked, looking away from Mike, his gaze on other things. Mike tried to resist the urge to grin wide like a fool, but he couldn't. He looked back at Erwin, his eyes still carrying a gaze of love that had never left him for twenty years.

            "I don't want to pressure you into this. It's only if you want this Mike... It's unconventional.. I know what would be best is for you to have a normal life, and this wouldn't be it... And I know it's kind of uncomfortable, considering there's still so much t-" Mike pressed his lips to Erwin in an attempt to quiet him. It worked, and Erwin was muted in stunned silence for a moment, leaning in to Mike. He pressed back, scratched by the stubble of Mike's cheek. It was a soft moment, and Mike allowed the time to pass before he pulled away from Erwin.

            "I don't mind not fitting in." He said simply, and leaned back, looking to Levi. "And thank you."

            "For what?" Levi snapped. "I never did anything for you... I made your life hell."

            "And if you didn't I would probably died." Mike remarked.

            "You probably wouldn't have cut yourself."

            "Better than pretending everything was okay." Mike immediately tacked on. "I know I'm going to be okay now. I like living. I don't have any intentions of that ending." Mike leaned in, pressing to Levi's face, giving him a soft kiss. Levi scowled, and tried not to give an amused look. Mike wrapped his hand around Levi's, and his other around Erwin's. It felt safe to do so.

            The day passed like any other day. Sunlight was dappled through the branches of blossoming trees. Vines travelled up the walls of their old house. The wind tossed up the leaves, and sent them travelling on endless paths, twisting and forming into endless dances. Clouds floated, drifting up within the heavens of blue skies. Time did not stop for them, it merely brushed over them. Allowing such a day to exist, allowing that void to disappear. Allowing something like happiness to exist for that moment. The world echoed with emptiness, but in the end, that would be okay. The paths of the earth were long and distant and winding, but he was not alone. And so they allowed that day to pass, like any other day. Mike held tightly to Erwin and Levi's hands, and felt a grip tighter than his own. He held to them, and no matter what the future brought, he decided, he would never let them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed. I love to hear people's thoughts on my writing. And from the comments I've received I am glad as I am heartbroken to hear of people who understand depression and sadness and I want to say that even though it's hard to speak about, I'm always available to talk with. I'm usually at my blog, arcadiamahler at tumblr.


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